What It's Not
by Meatball42
Summary: Timothy Speedle finally sums up the courage to ask out his colleague in the Trace Lab. But it’s not a date, he’s adamant. Speed/OC, E/C.
1. Not What It Looks Like

**Title: What It's Not**

**Rating: T. I'm not really sure about this, I'm saying T to be safe, but if it needs to be changed, tell me in a review and I'll fix it.**

**Summary: Timothy Speedle finally sums up the courage to ask out his colleague in the Trace Lab. But it's not a date, he's adamant.**

**Author Note: This is my first Miami fic, and most of the episodes I've seen are for Wolfe, so please excuse me if I portray Speedle incorrectly, but Ryan didn't really fit this fic. I read Speed Trap by Samwise Baggins (one of the best fics I have ever read) and Memories of Brooklyn by Brown-Eyed Girl 75, and their portrayals of Speed inspired me to write a fic about him despite having not really seen too many episodes with him in them. I've seen Lost Son like five times, but that doesn't really count, huh?**

**Like I said, I don't really know much about the character, like whether or not he's the type to go on a trip the Everglades, which I use later on. If not, assume a friend forced him to go.**

**Continuity: Yeah, this may be a slight bit of an AU. I haven't seen that many S1 or S2 episodes, so I don't know the original layout of the crime lab that well (not that they showed it very much, from what I did see) so in this version, just assume his gun never jammed and Natalia came and refurnished the offices, and hell, Ryan got hired on the night shift. Wouldn't that be perfect? *sighs dreamily***

**Pairings: Mostly Speed/OC, but there's definite E/C, if there are other ships I'll mention it in the authors notes for each chapter.**

**Enough with my rambling! On to the fic! That's why you're here, right?**

**Chapter 1: Not What It Looks Like**

CSI Timothy Speedle took deep, calming breaths as he walked down the near-empty hallway of the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. His long strides took him quickly, perhaps too quickly, towards the source of his anxiety, a gleam of copper light that he could see through the many panes of glass that cordoned off the crime lab. He paused instinctively at the entrance to the DNA lab, smiling when he remembered his reason for the habit. His life had not been the same since that day.

[*]

_Three Months Previously_

_Speed tore through the halls of the lab, his efforts to be on time failing miserably, and inspected his appearance before he came into Horatio's view. His shirt was untucked and rumpled (as usual) and his pants weren't ironed (as usual). His boots were throwing off flecks of mud which a week in the Everglades had managed to grind in so deeply that three turns in a washing machine hadn't been able to remove it all. He ran through the locker room, pausing only to grab his lab coat, gun and ID, then headed toward the Trace lab, donning his coat as he ran. There weren't many people in the halls around eight fifteen, and Speed was able to dodge the few who commuted between the labs (they weren't surprised). It wasn't until the DNA lab that his normal morning routine hit a snag._

_Speedle looked up in time to see a bright flash of copper before he crashed into someone. His tall frame overbalanced the woman, who tottered on two-inch heels before falling to the ground. She grabbed Speed's lab coat and he tumbled on top of her, managing to plant his arms on either side of her before his weight crushed the poor woman. He looked up, and found himself breathing deeply from the exertion inches away from a pair of bright emerald eyes._

_Her long hair, spilled out behind her on the warm brown floor, was a rich copper, and her skin, pale and lightly flecked brown, was warmed by this. It set off a startling contrast to her almond shaped green eyes, which stared into his deep brown pair in surprise as he stuttered._

"_I… uh… I'm…" Her eyes blinked at him, then he got a bit dizzy. She smiled, and with the motion he noticed the rest of her face. Her full lip, glossed over with deep red lipstick, high cheekbones, dusted lightly with blush, long eyelashes, coved with mascara, those beautiful eyes, highlighted with eyeliner. 'She really wears a lot of make-up,' was his only coherent though. 'She doesn't need to.' He realized that the woman looked to be in her mid-twenties, maybe a year or two younger than he was._

"_This isn't what it looks like!" She laughed loudly, her body moving against his, and he woke up. Speed realized there was a small crowd gathered around them, and he hurried to move out of their somewhat compromising position. He moved away from her, kneeling, and helped her sit up. Her tight, dark blue pantsuit had become wrinkled, and the papers from the file she was carrying were strewn in a patternless wave along the floor._

"_I'm so sorry," she said, still laughing. "I was reading and I didn't look where I was going."_

"_No," Speed protested, finally finding his voice. "I was running, it was my fault." He scrambled to pick up the papers, nearly falling over her again. This elicited another melodic laugh from the woman._

"_Leave them," she waved her hand in the air dismissively. "They can wait." The four or five lab techs who had gathered around backed off as she waved at them. "I'm okay, really!"_

_She smiled to prove her point and they left, gossiping and snickering at Speed. He blushed lightly._

_The red-headed woman sat back on the floor and began collecting the papers. As Speed hurried to pick up those near him, he took a closer look and realized what they were. A few glossy pages depicted a crime scene, more showed a lifeless body, and a few pages were covered in measurements of ingredients that he recognized as a tox screen._

"_Is this for a case?" Speed asked without thinking. The woman looked up at him, brushing her hair behind one ear._

"_Yes, the Fogerty case. I'm pretty sure it was an accident, his tox shows that he was very inebriated at the time of death, but we're doing a full investigation just in case." She looked more carefully then, inspecting his unkempt appearance and frowned. "Do you work here?"_

_Speed stood when she did. The red-haired woman folded papers back into the case file as she stared at him. He brushed off his coat and straightened the shirt underneath it._

"_Yes. I'm Tim Speedle, CSI. Do __you__ work here?" He smiled formally, his confusion moments before forgotten. From this distance, she didn't look that great. The make-up covered her natural beauty, and as he analyzed her clothing he realized that the tightly fitting garment probably marked her as a stuffy bureaucrat._

_She grinned in response to his question, and his bureaucrat theory was suddenly shaken. "I'm the new CSI, Rebecca Jordan. It's nice to meet you, CSI Speedle." She offered a pale hand, which he took. Her grip was firm, but without the challenge of strength that sometimes came with the new hires._

"_I didn't know we were getting a new investigator." There was not enough money in the budget. There was never enough money in the budget for anything, Speedle knew._

"_I've been here for a week," she laughed. "Where have you been?" Her carefree laugh made him smile. Maybe she wasn't that bad, although his instincts, toned from years as a criminal investigator, told him that the pantsuit and the sheer volume of beauty products screamed politician or higher-up._

"_He's been on a nice vacation in the Glades while the rest of us picked up his slack!" The new voice came from behind the new CSI and she turned to face the speaker with a grin. Speed rolled his eyes as Eric Delko came into view._

"_Damn, Speed, you just met the new girl, and you already laid her down?" Delko grinned, Speed froze, and Rebecca laughed, throwing her head back. Speed opened his mouth, but no sound came out._

"_It was my fault, Delko," she snickered. "And I would expect you to say something like that. You're just angry it wasn't you!"_

_Delko's dark skin got noticeably redder, and Speed chuckled at his friend. The new girl wouldn't take any of Delko's crap! For some reason, this thought made him much happier, and he relaxed a bit._

_Eric glared at his fellow CSI and turned to the woman standing beside him. "This, Rebecca, is the reason you were hired," Delko gestured at Speed. "We need somebody in the Trace Lab who knows what they're doing!"_

"_Hilarious, Delko." Speed nodded, letting the jibe slide._

"_No, I know he's just kidding." Rebecca turned back to Speed and smiled at him. "CSI's Delko and Duquesne have been complaining about how no work has made it through the Trace Lab since you've been gone."_

"_How many times, Rebecca?" Eric made a long-suffering look. "It's Eric and Calleigh, we're not formal here. We still haven't gotten you to dress like a human, but you could call us all by our names!"_

_Speed watched on confusedly, as Rebecca smoothed the dark blue jacket of her suit with the hand not holding the manila folder, suddenly embarrassed. "I know," she sighed, "it's just tough to remember. Everything was so different in Chicago."_

"_Well you're not in Chicago anymore, you're in Miami!" Eric grinned and made a quick flick of his arms that indicated dancing. "You need to settle down and enjoy the Miami sun!"_

_Rebecca laughed in response to Eric's joking and Speed felt a twinge in his stomach that he correctly identified as jealousy and spite. 'Delko is such a playboy,' he thought angrily. 'I thought she wouldn't fall for his flirting.' Suddenly feeling the need to situate himself, he spoke up. "So, you transferred from Chicago?"_

_Rebecca turned back to him; the three were know standing in a loose circle a few feet down from DNA. The light in her eyes died down a bit as she spoke, and her smile dimmed. "Yeah, I needed a… change of scenery." Then she smiled again. "Well, a break from the endless wind may be just what I need, right?"_

_Her bright expression was contagious, and Speed found himself laughing lightly to what he was sure had not been a joke. Rebecca turned back to Delko, spinning on her high heels, and Speed realized that she would be only around five foot five without the heels. No wonder his even six feet had knocked her down so easily!_

"_I just finished the tox on the Fogerty case," Rebecca explained to Eric, and Speed remembered the file in her hands as she handed it to his colleague. Eric looked at the top paper in the folder quickly, his brown eyes stopping at the bottom._

"_I guess you were right, this looks accidental. I'll get this to H." He looked up and grinned at his best friend. "Good thing you're back, Speed, we were starting to think a gator had eaten you." He slapped Speed's arm jokingly, then walked off toward the elevators._

"_Speed?" Rebecca asked, smiling up at him. Speed swallowed, suddenly nervous again._

"_Yeah, it's less of a mouthful than Speedle. You can call me Speed. Or Speedle if you want, or you could call me Tim or Timothy, I don't really care." Why was he stuttering like some boy in grad school talking to the pretty girl on the swings? He never acted like this, never!_

_But Rebecca didn't laugh at his ridiculous demeanor, she just smiled thoughtfully. "I like Tim," she said, and his pulse jumped another few beats._

"_Okay," Speed breathed. Taking control of his muscles, he reached out his hand for her to shake again, and she did, with a grin._

"_It's very nice to meet you, Tim," She said politely, even moving one high-heeled foot in front of the other and dipping slightly as though in a curtsey._

"_It's nice to meet you too, Becca." The name rolled of his tongue, feeling perfectly natural, and in this realization he nearly missed the look of shock and horror that caused her hand to go slack against his. "Are you okay?" Speed asked cautiously._

"_I'm fine," she decided firmly, but her grip was suddenly tighter, then she let go altogether. "I'm fine," she muttered so he could barely hear, then took a deep breath and looked back up at him. Her deep green eyes were still shaken, but her face split into that grin again._

"_I have to go, but I'll see you later?" She asked._

"_Definitely."_

_Becca smiled at him and walked away toward the morgue, and he stood there for a moment, feeling the warmth left in his hand, before he came to his senses. "Damn!" Speed exclaimed, looking at his watch. He hurried to the foyer to sign his timecard, by now at least twenty minutes late, and looked over his shoulder to catch the last glimpse of copper hair before she was out of sight._

[*]

At the entrance to the Trace Lab Speed stopped, blinking out of his memory and taking a last deep breath, steeling himself. Then, he plastered a grin on his face and walked into the lab.

Becca looked up from the bloodstained sweater she was analyzing and grinned when she recognized him. Her pale lips had no lipstick, nor was she wearing any other make-up except a bit of eyeliner and foundation. Calleigh had finally convinced her to go on a shopping trip, and the dark capris and sapphire v-neck she wore were much better suited to the Miami heat than the tight suits she'd brought from Chicago. Her copper hair was tied back in a loose ponytail to keep it from the evidence and her footwear was low-heeled sandals.

"Hey, Becca," Speed said a bit self-consciously. "You doin' anything tonight?"

**Oh, my God. I am writing a multi-chapter fic. This story has been swimming around my head for weeks and I swore to myself I would never write it down. I just hope with my earnest heart that no one I am related to, friends with, or who is the neighbor-of-the-dogwalker-of-a-relative-of-the-person-who-my-cousin-twice-removed-passed-in-the-grocery-store-in-a-state-on-the-other-side-of-the-country ever reads this. It's not that I don't want them to know what I'm writing, but I am a very private person and writing is like putting my brain on display, and anyone who has met me knows that's something the world is not ready to see. This story especially is one that I never thought I'd write, but here it is. Please don't crucify it too much!**

**The next chap should be up as soon as I get my act together, sit down, and type it, but if I'm incredibly lazy (I don't see it happening) this could be read as a one-shot.**


	2. Not A Date

**This chapter has some swearing, and some content that maybe you shouldn't have a ten-year-old read. You know, unless they're like I was when I was ten, in which case, this is a walk in the park!**

**There's probably going to be some sort of flashback in each chapter. I didn't plan it that way, but that's how it seems to be working.**

**I'm sorry this took so long! My muse comes to me when I'm trying to fall asleep, and a series of late nights have limited my writing time. Plus, she only seemed to care about this other story that I'm planning to start as soon as this is finished. I had to tie her down to get this chapter done, and I hope it came out okay. Sorry for the delay!**

**Chapter 2: Not a Date**

"_Hey, Becca. You doin' anything tonight?"_

Becca stared at him for a moment, confused. She didn't move for several moments, her mouth hanging slightly open, and Speed shifted from foot to foot and started stuttering.

"I don't mean, like, a date, or anything like that, it's just, Calleigh and Eric invited me to a club tonight, you know, since we all got the day off, and I don't really feel like being a third wheel."

Becca started laughing about halfway through, which just made Speed more nervous. "I'm sorry, Tim, I know you didn't mean it that way," She assured him. "I'm just surprised, I've been here three months and nobody's ever asked me out for drinks with the team or anything."

Speed breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah, well, we're not really that kind of team. Calleigh and Eric just invited me so no one would know they wanted to go alone."

Becca looked surprised. "They're…" she twitched her fingers in an obvious sign, "together?" She asked, eyebrows raised.

Speed chuckled. "Yeah, it's supposedly a secret, but…" He shrugged. "I just don't want to end up the odd guy out, right?"

"I understand," Becca smiled.

"I figured," Speed continued, "that you might not have any plans either, since the day off was so unexpected."

A surprising lack of murders over the past few days had dried up the normally overflowing piles of evidence for the CSIs to sift through. When his investigators had begun analyzing cold cases to pass the time, Horatio had told them all to take the rest of the day off.

"You guessed right," Becca remarked. "I was planning to IM some friends from Chicago, watch some movies on TV, but exploring the Miami nightlife seems much more exciting!"

"Okay then," Speed started to leave, and Becca went back to the sweater, but she looked up when he stopped at the entrance to the trace lab. Speed turned back and grimaced apologetically. "And, uh… Delko volunteered you be the designated driver. I can overrule him, if you want-" he offered quickly, but Becca cut in.

"No, it's okay. I'm the new girl. Them's the rules," she sighed.

"We were all going to meet at Pump'd, it's a dance club in Biscayne. It opens at nine. See you there?" Speed asked.

"I wouldn't miss this," Becca replied, grinning.

[*]

_Nine thirty_

"You see her?" Speed asked for the umpteenth time.

"Speed!" Eric shouted over the music that could be heard blaring from the double doors of Club Pump'd. Speed, Eric and Calleigh were waiting for their colleague just inside of the red velvet ropes at the front of the club. "She's coming, she's just late!"

"Yeah," Speed muttered distractedly. _Is that...? No way. _He stared as the woman in the low-cut green top that matched her eyes pushed through the crowd of people waiting at the velvet ropes. Speed continued to gape as she talked to the bouncer shortly, then pointed straight at him.

The heavyset man walked to Speed. "She with you?" He growled. Speed didn't respond, craning his neck to see over the tall man's shoulder.

"She's with us," Eric called, nudging Speed in the shoulder. "Wake up, man," he muttered loudly into his friend's ear. "She's wearing a skirt, she's not naked!"

Becca's thigh-length black skirt and high-heeled boots did cover much of her legs, but Speed was still gaping as she ducked under the velvet ropes and trotted over to the group. She took in Speed's surprised expression. "I do have party clothes, Tim!" Becca laughed. "I don't dress conservative all the time!" She grinned and, linking arms with Calleigh, walked into the club.

"You got your work cut out for you there!" Eric said to his best friend.

"What are you talkin' about, Delko?" Speed shook his head at Eric. "I'm going in."

He ran inside and looked around. Eric followed more slowly, laughing at his colleague.

[*]

_Two hours later_

"Come on, Speed, you've gotta make a move!" Eric said, gesturing to the dancing crowd with his beer. The palm tree theme was everywhere, in the music, the decorations, down to the printing on the umbrellas of the three empty mojitos in front of Speed's spot at the bar. The only thing not fitting the theme was the pulsing hip-hop music the permeated the thickly packed dance floor.

"I'm not gonna make a move, Delko." Speedle swiveled on the stool at the largest of the club's three bars, ripping his eyes from the redhead who was dancing next to Calleigh. He waved to the bartender for another drink.

"You've been staring at her the whole time we've been here," Eric argued. "Just stop lying to yourself. You like her, so go tell her."

"There's nothing to tell, Eric," Speed denied.

"You're in denial, man! You've had a thing for her since the Fogerty case the first day you met her!

Speed remembered the Fogerty case. Becca'd surprised the hell out of him and Eric. And that frat boy with the greased-up hair...

[*]

_Three Months Previously_

"_This wasn't an accidental death!" Becca determined, staring at the glowing polo shirt._

"_No, this was murder," Speed agreed._

"_I think we need to talk to Gary," Eric flipped open his cell phone and walked out of the Trace lab. Speed looked at Becca; she rolled her eyes, and both CSIs followed their colleague out of the room._

…

"_Speed and I'll take the interview, you can watch from Observation," Eric waved his hand toward the open door next to the interrogation room._

"_Come on!" Becca said disbelievingly. Eric and Speed turned back. "You think I stayed in the lab back in Chicago? I do know how to interview a suspect!"_

_Eric looked at Speed and shrugged. "You mind, Speed?"_

"_Not at all. Let's see watcha got," Speedle grinned, leaning closer to Becca as the two men walked past her into Observation._

"_Ha ha ha!" Becca said sarcastically. She sauntered into interrogation and sat in one of the chairs, making a point to stretch out comfortably and grin at the two-way mirror._

_Behind the mirror Eric commented to Speed "I'm not sure if I should be irritated or turned on!" Speed didn't seem to hear him._

"_Thank you for coming in, Mr. Bradshaw." Becca stood up to politely shake the hand of the twenty-something blonde who had just been escorted in. The patrol officer left the room and stood just outside the door._

"_Just call me Gary," the young man ran his hand through his long, slicked back hair and sat down, ignoring Becca's extended hand. She didn't respond to this, but sat down as well and slid some papers across the table._

"_Alright, Gary, we need you to sign a few forms. This is your witness statement, I just need you to read it through to make sure everything was typed up correctly."_

_Gary sighed, shoving the papers away."I already told you guys what happened. Connor was stoned and he fell of the seventh floor balcony! I told him that apartment was a bad idea," he muttered the last part under his breath._

_Becca smiled calmly in response to his outburst. "I know, Gary, but maybe you could run through it again?" She smiled sweetly at the man. "It would be such a huge help for us to tie up this tragedy. We need to close this case before Mr. Fogerty's fiancée can make funeral arrangements."_

_Gary relented, shifting in his chair. "Okay. I was fixing the garbage disposal. Connor never took care of his stuff, so it was all backed up. I got the detergent I was using all over my shirt, so I went out to the balcony to tell Connor he owed me for it. I was fixing it for free!" Gary explained. "I usually charge at least a hundred bucks for a job like that!"_

"_I understand," Becca said, trying to calm the man down. "So, you went out to the balcony. Was this when you realized how drunk your friend was?"_

"_Yeah," Gary nodded. "I told Connor about my shirt and he just laughed. He was leaning against the rail, but he was barely standing up. He told me to stop whining and fix it, and he waved his arm..." Gary stopped for a minute and swallowed._

"_It's alright, I understand this is hard for you," Becca murmured sympathetically. "That was when he fell, wasn't it?"_

"_Yeah, he just fell right over. There was nothing I could do."_

"_You did try to catch him, though, correct?" Becca asked. Gary's eyes widened._

"_No, I never said that!"_

_Becca frowned and inspected a paper in the file. "It says here we found traces of the detergent you were using on the garbage disposal on Connor's shirt." She looked back to the young man in front of her. "You must have tried to save him."_

_Gary stared for a moment, then said "Well, yeah, you know, I grabbed his arm, but, it's not like I could do anything, he was too far gone!"_

"_No, Gary," Becca frowned again, "we found the detergent on the back of Mr. Fogerty's shirt."_

_Gary shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "I must have touched his back when I was trying to pull him back up."_

_Becca shook her head. "The staining we found wasn't smeared at all. When you grab at fabric, it wrinkles, which would have made the detergent smear. The trace we found was a hand print, just like someone had put their hand flat on his back and pushed!" she mimed the act._

"_No!" Gary denied loudly. "Why would I kill Connor? We were friends since grade school!"_

"_Maybe you were jealous," Becca reasoned. "Connor's fiancée used to be your girlfriend, correct?" Gary looked away. "In fact, you dated Veronica for six months before she met Connor, isn't that right?" Gary didn't speak. "You just couldn't handle knowing that he got the girl!" Becca said with a final tone._

_Gary exploded, standing up and yelling at Becca "He didn't get the girl! She was mine! We were happy before Connor stole her from me! He didn't deserve her!"_

_Becca stood to face him confrontationally, responding to his aggression. "What did he deserve Gary? Did he deserve for you to push him off a seventh story balcony?"_

"_No! I should've brought him up to the roof!" Gary yelled. He grinned and leaned across the table toward Becca. "I just wish I'd brought a tape recorder so I can hear him screaming again and again." The last words were muttered inches away from Becca's face. She held his gaze for a moment, then leaned back from the table._

"_Gary Bradshaw, you are under arrest for the murder of Connor Fogerty." Becca began to Gary's surprised cry of 'What?'. She gathered her papers as the patrol officer walked in to cuff Gary. "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you-"_

_Gary shoved away the officer you was trying to handcuff him. "This is your fault, bitch!" He screamed, and leaped across the table, his hands aiming for Becca's throat._

_Becca swung her right fist and connected solidly with Gary's face. There was a loud crack and the man fell across the table, clutching his nose._

"_Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law," Becca picked up where she had left off, rubbing her knuckles as two more officers rushed in to restrain Gary. She followed the entourage out of the interrogation room and finished right outside the door. "Do you understand these rights as I have read them?" The only response from Gary was a snarl as he was dragged toward booking._

"_I'll take that as a yes," Becca said, sounding satisfied as she turned to the two CSIs coming out of Observation._

"_How was I?" She asked, grinning cattily._

"_That was..." Speed didn't finish, as his jaw was stuck open._

"_Incredible," Eric finished. He laughed, an amazed look on his face. "Where did that come from? Five minutes ago you were a scientist, now you're..." He waved his hand at her._

Becca does look different_, Speed noticed. There was a flush in her face that had nothing to do with her rose-colored blush, and she was tilting her head at him, like she knew he was thinking about how sexy she looked jut then. He was distracted from this train of thought by the return of her no-so-modest grin._

"_You don't survive as a cop in Chicago if you can't be a hard-ass every once in a while!" She walked towards booking, calling over her shoulder. "Fill out your incident reports! I don't want IAB coming to get me!"_

"_Okay, I've decided," Eric said to his friend, grinning. "If that's irritating, she can annoy me all she wants!" Not hearing a response, he turned to Speedle._

"_Wake up, Lover boy, she's gone!" He nudged Speed in the shoulder._

"_What? Yeah, I agree," Speed said to Eric, blinking a few times._

"_Great job, Tim," Eric chuckled, shaking his head as he walked away._

"_What?" Speed asked the receding figure. "What!"_

[*]

"Speed!" Eric poked him harder this time. "What?" he yelled over the music. Eric rolled his eyes and repeated himself. "I said, you two would make a great couple!"

"Just because things are working out for you and Calleigh that doesn't mean you can start playing matchmaker, Delko!"

Eric composed his face, but not fast enough for Speed' trained eye to miss his expression. "I don't know what you're talking about, man." Eric laughed nervously and covered up by ordering another beer.

"Now who's in denial?" Speed muttered, looking back at Becca. Now she was dancing with a dark-haired man. Speed spotted the man's motion to Becca and a wink to another guy at the bar, and stood up.

"Maybe you're right, Delko." He walked purposefully toward the dance floor. The dark-haired man saw him coming, and looked at him questioningly.

"Mind if I cut in?" Speed asked in a forced polite tone, his eyes daring the man to argue.

"Hey, Tim!" Becca shouted over the music, "You finally decided to join?" She was smiling and breathing hard from dancing and didn't seem to notice the tension."You don't mind, do you, Nate?" She smiled at the dark-haired man.

Nate looked from her to Speed, who was inches taller than him and glaring like Nate was about to slaughter his firstborn child. Nate made a logical decision.

"Not at all," he said to Becca, glancing nervously at Speed's angry eyes. "I was just going to catch up with my friend." He left quickly, leaving Becca staring after him confusedly. Then she shrugged and turned to Speed.

"Glad to see you finally got your ass off the barstool!" She shouted to him, grinning. He nodded, letting the hostility drain from his system. Becca grabbed his hand and dragged him deeper into the crowd, closer to the DJ.

Becca started dancing again, motioning for him to do the same. Not much of a dancer, he moved uncertainly, but Becca's spirit was contagious, and soon he was dancing at her speed, moving to the fast hip-hop beat. When the song was over, she fell against him, panting, and they laughed together. The next song had a deeper beat, and they danced more slowly to catch their breath. Becca closed her eyes as she moved and bobbed her head to the beat.

Speed was staring again, now that she couldn't see him. She wasn't wearing much makeup, like she had been when he'd first met her, but, just like then, he was stunned. Most women he'd gone out with had felt the need to fill up the time with chattering or romance, but here he was, just staring at this woman whom he had, indeed, had a major thing for ever since he'd met her... he started dancing closer and put his hands on her waist.

Becca opened her emerald eyes, looking surprised. She smiled, but, seeing the serious look on Tim's face, she stopped. They continued moving to the beat of the song, dancing close together. Speed stared into her bright green eyes, and she studied the emotions she could see in his brown pair. At the end of the song, the DJ started talking, but they didn't move. Speed leaned in closer to her, and hesitated, unsure. Becca smiled and closed her eyes, tilting her head to his. They hovered, only a hair apart-

Someone slammed into Becca, pushing her sideways and almost knocking her over. Speed's arm, already near the small of her back, caught her just before she tipped. He looked up, but the person who'd shoved into her was already gone.

"Are you alright?" Speed asked Becca as she regained her balance. He tucked the hair the had fallen in her face behind one ear, and she smiled to calm him down.

"I'm fine, Tim, just a bit shaken up." She said nervously and smoothed down her green top. She looked back into his eyes then looked away uncomfortably. "Tim, I-"

"Oh, my God, Becca!" The southern accent was immediately recognizable as Calleigh slipped trough the crowd. "I saw who it was! It was Nate, that guy you were dancing with before!" She grabbed Becca's arm and dragged her through the crowd towards a side of the dance floor. Becca avoided looking at Speed's questioning eyes as she was pulled away.

[*]

**I'm so glad I got that on paper, or in this case, on the computer. It's been bugging me that I haven't been able to update. But don't worry, I'm not done with the angst or the romance for our not-so-happy not-really-a-couple!**

**You just read over three thousand words in that chapter! So it'd be worth your while to make sure the next three thousand words are great, right? All suggestions are taken under advisement, and any criticism is great, even just a "Wow, great story,' or a 'You suck' are much appreciated!**

**Also, brownie points to anyone who recognizes the Leverage reference! It's one of my favorite shows, so I threw in a memorable line.**


	3. Not Mark

**Sorry this took so long, my muse is very fickle and I don't lead her, she leads me to the stories. I say her because I can't imagine that anything but a living creature could be as crazy as she is, and because I can't imagine having a guy reading my thoughts. Now ****that**** would be embarrassing.**

**(If you think that the chapter title doesn't make sense, don't worry, just read, it will soon)**

**Chapter 3: Not Mark**

[*]

"What happened, Rebecca?" Calleigh sounded like she wasn't sure whether to be serious or teasing. She forced her friend to sit on a stool at one of the club's bars. "Why did Nate try to mow you down?"

"He was probably jealous," Becca mumbled while waving the bartender over. "Can I have a margarita, please? She asked, putting her bill in the glass situated on the bar for that purpose.

"You're the designated driver!" Calleigh objected. "And why would Nate be jealous?"

"I can have one margarita and I'll be fine to drive, I just need something to settle my nerves because Tim tried to kiss me and I wanted him to, but the Nate ran into us and it cleared my head and now I don't know what to think, Calleigh!"

By the end of her speech Becca's angry tone had turned into a near sob and a tear trickled down her cheek as she took a soothing sip of her drink. Calleigh sat on the stool next to Becca and rubbed her arm reassuringly as Becca took a deep breath and wiped off the tear.

"I like him, I do, but he's just like…" Becca trailed off and took a longer sip of her margarita, this time not wiping off the wet lines that were trailing down her face.

Calleigh sighed quietly. She recognized the look on her friend's face. Becca was remembering the events that had caused her sudden transfer from the Chicago crime lab to the Miami-Dade lab. Even though it had been almost four months, Calleigh knew from experience that a bad break-up could take a long time to heal, and what had happened to Becca… Calleigh recalled vividly that day just over two months ago when she'd found the red-haired CSI in the break room and heard her story.

[*]

_Two months previously_

_Three weeks into Becca's new job at the Miami-Dade Crime Lab was when she collapsed. It wasn't just the song, but the song was just the latest in a long line and it was the last straw. All week she had been called and emailed incessantly by her friends and Mark's friends, her old boss at the Chicago crime lab, the owners of the soup kitchen she volunteered at whenever the tough shifts at the lab would allow her and her former colleagues, but most importantly there had been nothing from Mark. Still no emails or calls, although her cell number was the same, no messages from him through Becca's good friend Bri and most certainly no apology. At this point Becca had given up hope of an apology. _

_That night, Becca had managed two hours of sleep between her dreams of catching her fiancé and that woman in __her __bed, in __her__ apartment. Their apartment. The one she and Mark had bought together, with her small income from the crime lab and his slightly larger detective's salary. Remembering the look on his face when he'd seen her, then the faces of Mark's colleagues when they saw her and believed whatever rumors he had spread about how __he__ had called off the wedding, how __she__ was the one cheating. None of his friends, the other detectives, would ever believe her if she'd told them he was sleeping with one of the people he was supposed to protect. Then this morning she'd heard that song on the way to work, and she'd held it together until she sat hard against the wall of the break room and cried._

_She was so intent on her memories that she didn't even realize there was another person in the room with her until Calleigh was already sitting against the wall next to her. The older of the two CSIs had already wrapped her arms around Becca's shoulders and begun making soothing noises, just like she would with a child._

_Calleigh waited until Becca's crying slowed before asking. "What's the problem, sweetie? You all right?" She smiled comfortingly. She smoothed the other woman's bright hair down her back._

_Becca was only a year or two younger than Calleigh, and the blonde CSI had already begun to feel like a big sister. And, like a big sister, she just wanted to make this woman in front of her feel better._

"_I'm okay," Becca whispered. She took some deep breaths, and sat back against the wall. Calleigh kept one arm around her friend's shoulders, and waited patiently._

_Becca breathed. "I'm sorry about this," she began. "It's just… A lot of stuff's still going through my head from Illinois, and I don't really…" She sniffled again, and Calleigh interrupted her gently._

"_Tell me what's goin' on, sweetheart," she murmured, tucking some of Becca's hair behind one of her ears._

"_A lot of people from Chicago have been calling me. I guess my friend Bri gave somebody my new home number, and now the phone's been ringing all the time." She breathed, trying to stay calm and not start crying again. "They all want to know why I transferred so suddenly."_

_Calleigh didn't say anything, but she had been wondering that herself. Becca's transfer had been a huge surprise, with no warning from Horatio. Calleigh and Eric had both asked their supervisor about the new arrival, and had both gotten the same answer: 'There were some personnel issues at the Chicago lab and they needed to reorganize their staff.' Both CSIs had known there was more to the story, but Horatio had refused to say anything more._

"_Some of them are mad at me for not talking to them, and some of them know-" she cut off and sobbed again. Calleigh ran her hand over Becca's hair and let the other woman cry into her shoulder. 'It was always better to get the tears out' Calleigh's father always said. After a few moments, Becca's tears petered out._

"_What happened, Rebecca?" Calleigh asked softly. "You'll feel better if you let it out."_

_Becca stayed silent for a minute. She didn't want her new friend to know how terribly she'd messed up, how stupid she'd been to trust Mark. She didn't want anyone to know how embarrassed she was that she hadn't seen what was going on. And most of all she didn't want anyone to know how badly she'd been hurt, because seeming weak, relying on another person, was almost as bad in the Chicago police department as letting a perp get the better of you: you'd never live it down._

_In Chicago, she'd barely spoken to her colleagues outside of the cases they worked and the evidence. The only time she talked to her superior was when he handed out cases or when she got chewed out for spending too much energy on a particular bit of evidence. Bri had been her only friend she saw in her profession, and as a defense lawyer their paths hadn't crossed much. With only two CSIs and four lab techs per shift the caseload was always overwhelming. Evidence was to be processed as fast as possible, not as thoroughly as possible._

_But this lab was different. Her colleagues were easygoing, easy to talk to and, like Calleigh, had quickly become her friends. Becca was still getting used to Horatio, but he supported her and listened to her input. She already knew all the lab techs by name and there were always enough people to cover a shift. Becca was able to work each case until it was closed or went cold, and she was encouraged to focus on a particular piece of evidence until she was satisfied she had found everything she could._

_Maybe this lab wasn't going to be like Chicago. Maybe if she told Calleigh the truth, the New Orleans native wouldn't tell every other person in the lab. Maybe she could tell one other person the whole story. Bri tried to be supportive, but maybe having someone who knew the truth and lived in the same state would be a good thing._

_Becca told Calleigh the whole story._

"_When I lived in Chicago I was engaged to a detective," she began hesitantly. "His name was Mark McAllister, and he worked in Sex Crimes. We met when I was assigned to some of his cases, and we dated for about eight months before he asked me to marry him. We decided on a May wedding, we bought an apartment, and I thought everything was perfect. __He__ was perfect." Becca's green eyes, even brighter than usual from her tears, seemed to plead with Calleigh to understand. Calleigh nodded her encouragement, and Becca continued._

"_Everything was going great, until this patrol officer came and said he wanted to talk to me. He was so young, barely out of the academy, and he was so shy. He told me he wasn't sure if there was a procedure for this sort of thing." Becca laughed without humor, staring at the ceiling without seeing it. "He was talking about a rape case I was working, that he was helping out with. The victim had been so afraid when she'd come forward that the chief had authorized the patrol cars in her area to sweep by her apartment every hour. Her name was Melinda Felder." Calleigh noticed how Becca seemed to stutter over the woman's name and take a deep breath before continuing._

"_The patrol officer told me that Mark had been going to Melinda's apartment a few times a week, and staying for hours at a time. I told him not to report it, that I'd take care of it. I talked to Mark. I told him I knew what was going on, and he told me that he'd been sleeping with her." Becca turned her head away from Calleigh before choking out the next few sentences. "He said he was just trying to help her through a tough time, that he still loved me and he'd stop. I believed him." Becca fell silent, then surprised Calleigh by slamming her fist into one of her knees, which was tucked up to her chest. "I was stupid! I shouldn't have believed him! We weren't even married and he was already cheating on me!"_

_Calleigh hugged her friend tighter and clutched Becca's fist to stop her from hitting herself again. "No, Becca, it's not your fault! I've done the same thing!"_

_Becca looked at the other woman through her hair. "You have?" She asked._

_Calleigh laughed quietly. "Of course I have! We all want to believe the best of our boyfriends. Sometimes it doesn't work out, but sometimes it does, and you made a good choice by trying to work through it." She waited a few moments while Becca digested this new point of view, then asked gently "What happened next?"_

"_It was going fine for a month or so after that. He was treating me like he always had, and the patrol officer didn't come to me again. Everything was fine, and our wedding date was just a few weeks off." Becca hesitated before whispering "Then I caught them." She collapsed into tears again._

_Calleigh bit her lip as she pulled the sobbing redhead close. Calleigh had indeed had a few cheating boyfriends in the past, only one of whom she'd actually caught in the act. She remembered the pain and confusion she'd felt, and couldn't imagine how she'd feel if it was her fiancé who had hurt her so badly._

_Catching her breath, Becca resumed her story. "I told my friend Bri what happened, I packed up everything I could and I just…" Becca trailed off. "I just came to Miami soon as I could. My parents used to bring me here when I was young, and I just came because it was familiar…"_

_When the woman fell silent, Calleigh felt like she should say something, but she had no idea what to say. How could she console this poor woman, who'd uprooted her life and moved to a barely known city to escape the man she'd planned on spending the rest of her life with?_

_Calleigh said the only thing she could think of. "Well, now you're here. And I'm not going to let anything or anybody hurt my friend anymore. So just tell me what I can do to help you. Do you want me to fly up to Chicago and put a beat-down on Mark?" She smiled, only half-joking. She'd grown close to Becca, even though she'd only worked with the younger woman a short time, and hated seeing her new friend in so much pain._

_Becca laughed quietly. "No." She sighed. "I just don't know if I can work today. I was okay, and then I heard a song on the way in to work. Mark and I were going to play it at our wedding." She whispered the last bit, shaking with another small sob._

"_That's fine," Calleigh told her. "I can talk to Horatio, I'm sure he won't mind if you take a sick day. I can explain this to him and I'm sure he'll-"_

"_No, he already knows," Becca interrupted. When Calleigh's face showed surprise, she elaborated. "When I first came here, I applied for a job. Horatio said there weren't any positions open, but when I told him what happened, he said he'd try to find a spot for me. He said he could use some of the FBI's grant money to make a new position. He's been really great," she smiled._

"_That does sound like Horatio," Calleigh smiled in response. "He's always trying to help someone out."_

_They sat there for a moment, both thinking about Becca's revelations. Calleigh felt terrible at what the younger woman had gone through, and she was determined to distract Becca with lots of shopping and tours of Miami, the best diversions she knew. She would do all she could to help the usually tough CSI feel better._

_Becca discovered that telling another person her story did make her feel much better, as though she was no longer keeping a secret that weighed down her movements. After a few moments, she decided to show Calleigh something else that she'd thought she would never show anyone in her new home._

_Becca pulled out her wallet from a pocket in her ever-present pantsuit and opened it with slightly shaking hands. She pulled out a small photograph and handed it to Calleigh wordlessly._

_Calleigh inspected the 2.5x3.5 picture. There was a laughing young woman in a pale pink top and a wide, green skirt that was obviously Becca. She was caught in the act of playfully shoving a man in the stomach, and he hugged with his arm around her shoulder. The man chin was level with the top of Becca's head, and his hazel eyes were gazing down at her with what Calleigh identified as love and happiness. He had ruffled, dark hair and a noticeable five o'clock shadow. The man looked a bit familiar to Calleigh, but she couldn't place it._

"_Is that Mark?" Calleigh asked quietly, already knowing the answer. Becca nodded slightly, staring at the photo Calleigh was delicately holding. "You two look happy."_

_Becca reached out and gently took the picture, sliding it back into her wallet. "We were," she whispered as she stood, so quietly that Calleigh barely heard. Becca straightened her rumpled hair and her wrinkled pantsuit, and tried to wipe the tears off her face. She smiled at Calleigh as the firearms expert pulled herself up, then spoke in a more normal voice._

"_Thanks for listening to my babble-" Becca waved her hand as if to pass off her story as a simple rant, but Calleigh wouldn't have it. She looked seriously in the redhead's eyes and answered sincerely. "Any time."_

_Becca took in the sincerity and nodded her thanks. "If you could talk to Horatio, that'd be great," Becca said. She took a deep breath and stood straighter before opening the door to the break room and walking out, leaving it slightly ajar behind her._

_Calleigh went to Horatio's office and informed him the Rebecca needed to take a sick day, noticing how he looked at her suspiciously, then accepted the explanation. She looked him in the eye after she delivered the excuse, and he seemed to realize that she knew the whole story now when he said significantly 'Make sure she's feeling better soon.' Calleigh assured him that she would, then left his office and headed back to her firearms lab. It was only when she arrived that the ballistics expert remembered why she'd gone to the break room in the first place. She sighed, and headed back to the area where she'd already spent a large portion of her morning._

_Calleigh was just refilling her coffee mug with lukewarm liquid out of the cappuccino machine when the door opened. She turned to see who'd come in, and nearly had to stifle a gasp._

_The visitor looked just like the man in Rebecca's photo! Calleigh turned away, her mind spinning with possibilities. Had the detective come to see his run-away fiancé? She put down her coffee cup before she spilled it, then took a second look._

_Calleigh nearly sighed with relief when she realized her mistake. It was just Speed. The noticeable resemblance made her blink, but she refocused when he asked her a question._

"_Why didn't Becca show up today?"_

"_Rebecca did come in, but she felt sick and took the day off," Calleigh's smile as she delivered the lie was unconvincing, but Speed didn't notice. He was frowning as he considered her statement._

"_I hope she's alright," the usually wry CSI muttered sincerely. Calleigh felt a small rush of sympathy; Speed and Rebecca had become quick friends, and she wasn't surprised he was worried about her._

"_She'll be fine," Calleigh reassured. "But I won't be if I don't finish processing all the slugs I found yesterday. Want to help?" She flashed her brightest smile._

_Speed sighed, and Calleigh knew the suggestion of work had distracted him sufficiently from his colleague's distress. "No, I have my own evidence to process. I'll see you later," he waved half-heartedly before slouching out of the room._

_Calleigh sighed and leaned against the counter, remembering with renewed astonishment the picture Rebecca had shown her just a few minutes earlier. She considered the resemblance between Mark McAllister and Miami's resident trace expert and sighed again as she headed back to her firearms lab. "This can't be good…"_

[*]

"He's not Mark."

Becca started in response to Calleigh's words, the exact thing she'd been thinking. She clutched even tighter to the margarita in her hands.

"I know he's not," Becca admitted, "but he looks so much like him. He has the same hair, and he's the same height, and he even sounds the same!"

"He's not Mark," Calleigh repeated.

"I know," Becca sighed. "Tim has dark brown eyes, Mark has hazel."

"That's not what I meant!" Calleigh rolled her eyes. "Speedle would never treat you badly, you know that!" The blonde CSI insisted.

"Yeah, I know," Becca sighed. "I do, it's just… I…" She sighed again into her mostly empty drink. "I just don't know what to think."

Calleigh leaned in close to her friend, to be comforting and to get her point across. "Speed's a great guy, Rebecca. You need to give him a chance."

The redhead stared unblinkingly at the glass in her hands. "You know how Tim calls me 'Becca'?" She asked suddenly.

Calleigh nodded slowly, confused by the sudden change of the subject. "Yes, but no one else does." She eyed her friend curiously.

"Before Tim, Mark was the only one who called me 'Becca'." Becca smiled a bit, still staring at her drink. "I was a bit surprised when Tim started calling me that too, but it helped me. Almost like… like Mark wasn't the only one who I could… be Becca with." She smiled suddenly at Calleigh. "That sounds stupid, huh?"

Calleigh shook her head. "No. That means you're moving on, even just a bit. That's a good thing."

The younger CSI smiled wryly, recognizing her friend's attempt to cheer her up. "Thanks, Calleigh." Then she motioned at the dance floor. "You should go, I'm keeping you from your date."

Calleigh looked around them, making sure she didn't recognize anyone in earshot. "What are you talking about, I'm not here on a date!" She sounded convincing, but her suddenly darting blue eyes wouldn't meet Becca's.

"Go, Calleigh!" Becca laughed at the blonde's shyness. "I'll finish this drink, then catch up with you."

Calleigh relented. Her colleague obviously knew why she was here, she might as well enjoy the spilled secret. Calleigh scanned the club, eyes coming to rest on a particular Cuban who was smiling at her from an adjacent bar. Calleigh grinned. "I'll see you later!" She called to Becca, who was now shaking her head and giggling.

"The night's not over yet!"

[*]

I really don't like this chapter. I never really understood how an author could write something and then not like it, but this thing wrote itself. It's way longer than I though it would be and had way more tears. But I got Becca's story down, so this chapter was worth it.

**That was a long chapter! You spent all that time reading that, may as well review now, right? It would make sense to write a small suggestion or critique to make sure the next few thousand words are better.**


	4. Why Not?

**AN: Wow, sorry it took so long to write this! This is the highest rated chapter I've ever written, and I wanted to make it realistic, but my mind kept throwing up roadblocks. Hope it turned out okay!**

[*]

Calleigh didn't give up until one a.m. She had danced a few times with Eric, but both of them kept stealing glances toward their respective best friends, who were seated at bars on opposite ends of the club. Finally, Calleigh sighed.

"They're not going to do anything unless we make them, are they?" She asked her boyfriend.

Eric shook his head. "Nah. Speed's too confused-"

"And Becca's too conflicted." Calleigh finished his sentence with a small smile that quickly slipped away. "Let's just let them sleep on it and try to fix it tomorrow."

"Okay. Is Becca still good to drive? Because I know I had a few too many." Eric grinned.

Calleigh sighed again as they began to make their way off the dance floor. "I think so. She's just been sitting there, I haven't seen her drink anything else."

"Unlike Speed, who's probably had another three mojitos," Eric stopped as they reached the edge of the dance floor. "I'll get him, you get her? Meet you at the car?"

"Good plan," Calleigh smiled up at him, stepping closer.

Eric glanced around quickly to make sure their colleagues weren't watching, then leaned down to kiss her lightly, teeth grazing her lower lip, then pulled back when she leaned closer. "We have to go, Calleigh."

Calleigh made a small noise of frustration, but she smiled up at him when she complained "You're being a tease!"

Eric just grinned. Then he pointed over her shoulder at a figure coming through the crowd. "Looks like Becca's noticed we're ready to leave. I'll see you soon!" He walked in the opposite direction towards Speed's seat, dodging a few college kids on the way.

Eric clapped his friend on the shoulder. "We're getting' outta here, Speedle."

"Okay." Speed didn't look up from his almost empty glass.

"Come on, Speed," Eric was trying to help his friend, but he had no idea what to say. Before Calleigh, he'd never felt particularly strongly about a girl, and he hadn't had any problems with the blonde CSI. He made a weak attempt. "You can talk to her tomorrow."

Speed just sighed. Then he drained his glass and motioned to his friend. "Lead the way.

…

Calleigh was already buckled up in the backseat of Becca's car when the two men came out of the club. When she was sure Speed wasn't looking, Calleigh motioned to Eric to sit in the seat next to her. Eric helped a wobbly Speedle into the passenger seat, handing him the seatbelt, which the dizzy trace expert managed to successfully manipulate after just a few tries. Then Eric slid into the seat next to her.

"Okay, where are we going first?" Becca asked. Calleigh noticed that she was looking pointedly into her rearview mirror, deliberately not looking at the man in the seat next to her. Calleigh sighed inwardly. This'll be tough.

"Uh, Eric's place is closest, how about there?" Calleigh said randomly. Becca mumbled an agreement and pulled out of the lot.

The entire car ride was filled with the worst type of awkward silence. The only talking was when Eric gave Becca the directions to his apartment. Calleigh and Eric exchanged many worried looks, and Speed and Becca both seemed very interested in the view outside their windows.

Finally, Becca turned into a parking lot bordered by apartment buildings and slowed to a halt. There was a moment of silence.

"Well, this is my stop," Eric said, mostly to break the pregnant silence. He opened the door and stepped out.

All good intentions aside, Calleigh didn't want to spend another moment in that awkward silence. "You know Becca, my condo isn't too far from here, and it's a bit out of your way, so I could just walk the rest of the way."

Eric stopped walking when he heard her speaking. He quickly covered up the small grin that had spread over his face.

But the telling smirk that Becca directed at Calleigh told the blonde that she'd seen it. "Sure, Cal, just don't get" she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively "held up too long."

Calleigh straightened up to defend herself, then gave up. "Don't worry Becca, I'll be safe," she replied with her own look. Calleigh slid out of the car and walked over to Eric. They both waited until Becca drove the car out of the lot.

"You know," Calleigh began, "my apartment is a bit far."

"Miami can be dangerous at night," Eric grinned as he played along.

"You have a guest bedroom, right?" Calleigh smiled flirtatiously.

Eric motioned towards the front door. "I don't think we'll need it!"

…

Becca didn't need to ask for directions to Speed's place, since she'd driven him home a few nights when his motorcycle had been in the shop. So the ride across town seemed even longer with no conversation to fill it up. Finally, Becca parked her car in the street in front of Speed's building.

She sat there for a moment, not knowing what to do. Speed was still staring out his window, and it was a moment before Becca realized that he was asleep.

"Tim?" She asked. When there was no reply, she poked him on the shoulder. "Tim!" Becca said louder.

Speed's head jerked up. "Yeah?" he asked groggily. "Wha' happn'd?"

Becca sighed. She turned off her car and walked around to help her… _friend?_... out of his seat. She had to undo the buckle for him, and when she pulled him out of the seat he stumbled a few steps until she caught him.

Becca pulled his arm over her shoulder and tucked her hand around his waist, trying to keep the dizzy man standing. If her breath caught for a moment when he gripped her bare upper arm, it was just because he was heavy.

After a few moments though, Speed was able to walk on his own, and Becca was a bit disappointed when she didn't have to help him up the stairs. But when they reached his apartment Speed swayed uncertainly, the key in his hand.

"Let me get that," Becca took the key from Speed and opened the door, guiding him inside.

Becca was surprised when she saw Speed's apartment, having figured him for the type to have a fully functioning bachelor pad. What she saw was a well-furnished living room with a light blue sofa and wine red carpets, bordered by an open granite countertop that separated it from a kitchen filled with shining appliances.

Becca sat Speed down carefully on the sofa, then went to the kitchen and scrounged around in the cabinets until she found a cup and some aspirin. After filling the cup with water, she sat down next to her still dizzy colleague on the couch.

"Tim," Becca said softly, "You should take this so you don't have a giant headache in the morning."

Speed smiled blearily and downed the pills with the water. He put the cup on a small table at the end of the couch and slumped against Becca, practically pinning her to the couch. Becca was trying to find a way to shift him without disturbing him too much when she heard his light snoring. _That figures._ She thought tiredly. _I'll just wait for a while until he's really asleep, then I'll leave…_

…

Something shifting against her brought Becca back to a state of wakefulness. Blinking her eyes open, Becca gasped slightly when she saw Speed's smirking face a few inches from hers. "Tim!"

Speed moved back, still grinning at her annoyingly. "You fell asleep," he said.

Becca gasped again and looked at her watch. "It's almost three in the morning, Tim! Why didn't you wake me?" Becca asked indignantly.

"You looked like you needed your sleep." Speed continued to smile at Becca like he was laughing at a joke. But he stopped grinning when Becca stood suddenly.

"I have to go, I should get home," Becca muttered, checking her watch again. _At this rate I won't get home 'til three thirty!_

"You don't have to go," Speed said seriously. "It'd take you awhile to get home."

Becca looked up at him, surprised by the offer, to find him standing very close. "You know, I-I should really, go-" Becca was stuttering suddenly and she turned to go quickly. Speed's hand closed around her wrist lightly, pulling her back. He didn't say anything, but looked in her eyes with a small smile. He moved a bit closer, but Becca stepped back.

"Tim, we shouldn't," Becca whispered, finding it hard to talk when he was looking at her that way.

"Why not?" Speed matched her volume, slowly moving his hand up her arm toward her shoulder.

Becca's mind was suddenly blank. "Because," she was stuttering again, "we, we work together, and we both have the same shift tomorrow, and-" Becca gave a little gasp when he stroked a particular spot on her forearm. _Why did I have to wear a sleeveless top?_

Speed moved even closer, and Becca found herself frozen in place by his deep brown eyes. He paused for a moment when they were millimeters apart, and her breath caught. Then he closed the distance between them.

-

A sharp pain in Becca's side made her open her eyes, only to see closed lids directly in front of her. One of Becca's hands was tangled in Speed's hair and the other was struggling with the buttons of the plaid shirt he was wearing. Speed arms were wrapped around Becca tightly, holding her close. They were kissing hard, tongues sliding together and Becca realized she was grinning against his mouth. Out of the corner of her eye Becca could see what had caused the pain on her hip: Speed's granite countertop. They had been stumbling backwards, Speed steering them toward a doorway off the living room that Becca guessed led to his bedroom, and Becca had bumped into the edge of the counter. For a moment she was tempted to continue their somewhat lurching journey toward the bedroom, but the moment the thought passed through her mind Becca froze.

Speed's eyes flew open the as Becca tensed, and pulled back so that his face was a few inches from hers. "What's wrong?" he asked breathlessly. When Becca considered it, she realized that she was out of breath as well.

"I have to go!" Becca wrenched herself away from Speed and practically ran out of his apartment, once again leaving a very confused man in her wake.

…

Becca and stared at the clock. The bright red digital numbers told her that she'd been trying to fall asleep for exactly one hour and forty-eight minutes since she'd collapsed on her bed fully clothed. But every time she closed her eyes, a new detail of the events at Tim's apartment flooded her mind.

[*]

_Two hours, twenty-one minutes previously_

_Speed kissed her softly, his lips barely brushing her, while his hand continued to stroke her shoulder, slowly coming up to cradle the back of her neck. When his thumb brushed the skin under her ear Becca leaned into the kiss, pressing her lips against his and bringing her hands up to his chest._

_Speed leaned forward so that Becca didn't have to tiptoe to kiss him, pushing her back a few steps and letting his other hand fall to her waist. Becca responded by running her hand down the scratchy skin of his neck and gasped lightly when he pulled her closer, caressing her cheek. Becca lightly trailed her tongue along his bottom lip, and gasped when he started kissing her with more force. Their tongue slid between each other's mouths and Becca found she was breathing purely in gasps. Speed was pulling her closer with both arms under her shirt and she found her hands fumbling with the buttons to his shirt._

_Speed was walking her backwards and each step seemed to pull them closer together. Becca gave up on his shirt and wrapped one arm around his neck, savoring his taste as she pressed their mouths together even harder._

_Becca was so swept up in Speed, in the taste of his lips, his breath on her face, his touch on the now bare skin of her back that only made her want more. His fingers seemed to be gripping her tightly, but the contact seemed feather-light to her, and she urged him with her motions to hold her tighter. She ran her hands over the skin of his chest she'd exposed, though his hair, trying to feel all of him at once. The few rational thoughts that buzzed through her mind were flying in every direction, and she could no more catch one and act on it than she could have pulled away from him at that moment. She was completely caught up in Speed and the way he was making her feel, and she didn't want anything to change._

_A stray step took them too close to the counter, slamming her hip against it painfully…_

[*]

Becca sighed, once again giving up the battle to fall asleep. She knew why she was having trouble. The last time she'd felt so… overwhelmed, so unable to form a coherent though, was the last time she'd been with Mark. She'd kissed a few random guys in random bars, trying to see if she could still feel something toward them, but the kisses had always left her feeling more empty. She felt broken.

But with Tim, the kissing hadn't been awkward or forced. She hadn't even considered that they worked together, or that she was afraid of emotional connection, since the moment his lips had touched hers. All she could think of was his hand, his tongue, how he was moving against her. There hadn't been any thought, and that lack of complete control over her environment, a fear she recognized had only appeared since she'd left Chicago, was what had caused her to run away from her first complete happiness in almost four months.

Becca sighed. It was going to be a long day.

[*]

When Speed woke up, he didn't open his eyes for a few reasons.

He told himself it was because he knew better, and this was the truth. He'd had enough hangovers to recognize one, even though this time it wasn't that bad. He knew if he opened his eyes, the light his bedroom curtains let in would give the room a pale, washed-out sheen, which would hurt his eyes and make his head throb worse. He knew that opening his eyes would, unavoidably, lead to sitting up, then standing, then making his way to work with a pounding headache.

But the real reason Speed wouldn't open his eyes was because he was still thinking about his dream.

In his dream, Becca had come with him to his apartment and fallen asleep next to him on his couch. Speed had dozed for a bit, but woken and spent an hour watching her sleep. _She was even more beautiful when she slept_, Dream-Speed had noted. _She looks more relaxed, like she doesn't have to put on a front._ When Becca had woken up, Dream-Speed had let his inhibitions, already loosened by the mojitos, simply fly away, and kissed her. Despite his nonchalance, his heart had been pounding loudly in his ears and he was afraid that Becca would not only reject him, but either slap him, report him to Horatio, or laugh in his face. But she hadn't.

Speed smiled, still refusing to open his eyes, relishing the taste of Becca's lips that he could still remember from his dream. She'd kissed him back. Speed sighed, finally giving in to the part of him that didn't want to be lectured by Horatio on being late for work. If only the dream had been real.

Speedle stumbled to his bathroom, surprised that his headache wasn't nearly as bad as he had thought it would be. He looked in the vanity mirror to judge his appearance and froze.

There was lipstick smeared on his mouth.

Speed immediately recognized the shade, but the thought didn't fully make its way through his head for several seconds. _That's the color Becca was wearing in my dream!_

Speed slowly wiped at the tinted stain on his lips, then stared at the color on his fingers. _It wasn't a dream!_ Speed smiled, suddenly a lot more enthusiastic about going to work.

[*]

**Okay, so, what'd you think? Is this a match made in heaven, or is Becca going to run away from a potential relationship? What do you want to happen? Critique and suggestions are all thoroughly considered!**

**You just read all those words, surely you can spare a few for the writer? Even a 'Great story' or a 'I'm trying to forget this story' is appreciated, and I will never erase an anonymous review. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Not Sure

**AN: I'm so sorry this took so long (at least compared to how quickly I usually write chaps). My muse is mean. She decided to go on a vacation, giving me no new ideas, but still pressured me to write. So, I'm making this up as I go along, something I don't do very often. Hope you like! (Hope I like, for that matter.)**

**Quick warning for language.**** Don't worry; it's not a common thing. I only put in swears if I think it's really what the character would say.**

**Also, I figured that, since she's new, H would call Becca 'Ms. Jordan.' He still calls Natalia 'Ms. Boa Vista' after all this time, so it made sense.**

**I know practically nothing about the boroughs of Miami (or whatever they're called) so if they don't really call Coconut Grove 'the Groves' please excuse my sad lack of travel experience! :)**

**Chapter 5: Not Sure**

[*]

Becca gave up on sleep early. She showered, got dressed and made herself breakfast in a daze. Part of her was sure that she would get to work and everyone, Calleigh, Eric, her other friends in the lab, would all know what had happened. The rational side of her knew this wasn't likely, but she could still remember that last day at work in Chicago.

[*]

_Becca stumbled out of the elevator. It was only one in the afternoon, but she felt as though she'd been awake for weeks. After walking in on her fiancé with another woman the night before, Becca had walked through the city all night, crying her eyes out. She'd come in to work early and changed into her lab clothes so that no one would notice she was wearing that same clothes as the day before. Becca knew that the gossips in the AV lab would've picked her apart for such a slip._

_She clumsily dodged an officer bringing a suspect to the interrogation rooms as she made her way to the main room of the floor. A wide room was cordoned off into cubicles, each housing a detective. Becca breathed a huge sigh of relief when she saw that Mark's was empty; he must have been called out into the field. She made her way to the opposite end of the room, smiling slightly when she reached her destination._

_Johnny Gantry was one of the youngest detectives in the burglary squad, and it showed. He looked young, only a few inches taller than Becca, with pale, freckled skin and flaming orange hair. He was currently lounging in his chair, reading intently from a file that corresponded to the one Becca was carrying. She made sure he didn't know she was there, then dropped it in his lap._

_Johnny jumped, startled out of his trance, and almost dropped the file. He stared up at her, one hand unconsciously reaching toward the holster on his left hip, before relaxing. "Rebecca, what are you doing here?" he asked quietly. The normally exuberant detective looked around the area conspicuously before motioning her to the chair on the other side of his desk._

_Becca tilted her head questioningly, sitting at her normal spot on the side of his desk. "What's the matter, Johnny?" She'd been looking forward to one of her few friends within the department to cheering her up, but it looked like Johnny had problems of his own._

_The young man looked around again. "Can you sit down, detective?" Johnny implored, motioning again to the chair._

_Becca stood from his desk slowly, and sat in the chair he'd suggested. "Why so formal, Johnny, the sergeant gonna do an inspection soon?" Becca tried to joke her friend out of his nervous demeanor._

_The unusual nervous look flared up in Johnny's face as he once again looked around, making a small shushing sound. He didn't say anything, just tapped his pen against his desk in an anxious tic, and Becca decided to cut to the chase. "What's the matter with you?" She asked bluntly. "Why'r you so edgy?"_

_Johnny sighed and finally looked her straight on. "Mark told everyone that you two called of the wedding."_

_Becca gaped. She hadn't known what to expect from Mark but she'd thought he would be at least half as ashamed of his actions as she was. Why would he tell the whole department what he'd been up to? Johnny wasn't in the same circle of buddies as Mark was, so if Johnny knew, __everyone__ knew. _

_After a moment of unblinking confusion, Becca managed to squeak out "Did he say why?"_

_The detective wouldn't meet her eyes. It was several seconds before he managed to mumble "He said you were having an affair with-"_

_Becca interrupted, jumping to her feet. "What?" She yelled. "That's ridiculous!" She only noticed that her outburst had turned heads in the mostly quiet room when Johnny violently motioned for her to sit down, glancing around again anxiously. She didn't sit but leaned across the desk, talking in an angry whisper._

"_I__ broke it off, Johnny! __I__ broke it off because I caught him sleeping with Melina Felder!" She spat out the woman's name._

_Johnny looked confused. "You mean that blonde who was crying in the captain's office a few weeks ago?"_

"_Yes!" Becca sat back in the seat, tears pooling in her eyes. She thought she'd cried all of her tears. Part of her noticed the irony: she'd thought her friend would make her feel better, and now she felt worse than she had before. The thought reminded her of the way Johnny had been acting when she first came in. Her confusion distracted her from her tears._

"_Why were you acting so strange?" She asked quietly, conscious of the way Johnny's blue eyes still darted around at the few people who had views of his cubicle._

_Johnny bit his lip. "Just some things Mark said, I don't want people… being suspicious," he said hesitantly._

_Becca shook her head uncertainly. "What do you mean?"_

_The freckled detective sighed. "Mark said you were sleeping with a man in the department, and since we're pretty close friends some people thought he meant me." Johnny was blushing thoroughly, his pale skin giving away his embarrassment, and he wouldn't meet her eyes._

_Becca was speechless. She couldn't imagine that her ex-fiancé had sunk so low, she had never even considered the possibility. She sat for several moments, Johnny watching her anxiously, before she whispered "I can't believe this."_

_It was a few seconds before her friend spoke. "Anyway, I just don't think we should spend any time together, outside of cases, until this dies down a bit." She digested this for a second, then moved her gaze from where it had fixated on his desk to Johnny's eyes._

"_You don't believe him, do you?" Becca asked, her voice wobbling._

"_No!" He hurried to assure her. "Of course not. It's just…" She stared at him until he mumbled on. "Some people do, and I don't want them to think they're right."_

_Becca was relieved. She didn't know what she'd do if her friend really thought she'd… do what Mark did! The thought made her angry, which gave her enough strength to stand. Johnny watched her warily, not sure if he was about to see Becca's temper._

"_Thanks for the info, Gantry," Becca said calmly, her voice loud enough that a few of the officers around them could hear, but not loud enough to be obvious. "I'll make sure that evidence gets to the DA before your suspect makes bail." She nodded formally and walked back toward the elevators, looking straight toward her destination, trying to ignore the several pairs of eyes she felt on her as she went._

_When she arrived at the floor of the crime lab, Becca made a beeline for her trace lab. She was the only CSI using the room at the moment, and she wanted to be away from her colleagues from the moment she stepped out of the elevator._

_As she walked through the lab, she noticed three lab techs standing together, looking at her and whispering. They quickly looked away when she saw them, but Becca was aware of several other techs and various officers and other visitors gazing her as she walked toward her lab. Even worse, a few of Mark's friends had seen her. Some were pointedly ignoring her and made pains to avoid her path in the hall, but one of Mark's best friends, Detective Joe Tucker, walked close to her in the opposite direction. She was eyeing him uncertainly and he stared right in her eyes when he muttered "Slut!"_

_Becca stopped for a moment in the middle of the hall. Suddenly, it was all just too much. She whipped out her cell as she walked even faster than she had before, desperate to be in her safe trace lab. She reached the room (thankfully the walls of this work area weren't glass like most of the crime lab) just as Bri picked up. Becca collapsed in her chair and cried, telling her best friend the whole story._

[*]

Becca's fear took hold as she walked past the trace lab of her new building. She was sure that she could feel eyes on her, just as she had that day. Becca swallowed anxiously and told herself she was just being paranoid. Surely this 'morning after' couldn't possibly be as bad as that one, just four months ago? Becca steadied her trembling hands before entering the layout room.

Becca felt a quick surge of relief. She was about a half hour early, so only Calleigh was getting ready to divide up the duties of the day. Becca was hoping to get a field assignment today; she couldn't stand being in the lab, feeling like everyone was watching her.

"Hey, Cal!" Becca greeted her colleague, putting false cheer in her voice. She tried to smile, but quickly realized she wouldn't be able to fake it convincingly, and let her natural, tired expression show through just as the blonde CSI turned.

"Morning, hon," Calleigh smiled at the file in her hands. When she looked up at Becca, her happy expression dimmed. "You feelin' all right? You look a bit run down," Calleigh asked, smiling comfortingly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Becca could tell her lie hadn't convinced the observant woman.

"How did last night go?" Calleigh probed, trying to find the root of Becca's strange demeanor. From the deer-in-the-headlights look that suddenly crossed the redhead's face, Calleigh knew she'd gotten it right.

"I'm… not sure." Becca said. She thought for a moment, then shook her head. She didn't _want _to imagine what Tim must be thinking of her, she wanted to get immersed in work. "Do we have a case?" She changed the subject.

Calleigh noticed her colleague's discomfort. "A stabbing in Coconut Grove," she answered, consulting a file. "Eric and I can take it, you were in the field yesterday."

"No!" Becca exclaimed. Calleigh looked up at her, surprised. "Uh, Eric said he needed a lab day to finish up some paperwork." Becca tried to cover her anxiety with nonchalance. "I'll take the case with you." She tried to smile.

"Okay," Calleigh nodded. "I'll just call H and we can head out." She smiled at her unusually depressed colleague. "Your car or mine?"

Becca gave a sad smile back. "Yours."

…

"You have any more swabs?" Becca called to the pair of boots protruding from under a bed. She smiled at the sight. "What are you looking for down there? You think a dust bunny stabbed Mrs. Cole?" She'd forgotten her earlier tension after Calleigh had started talking about a story from her days at Tulane University.

"No, I think this knife may have had something to do with it, though!" Calleigh joked as she wriggled out from the bed. She was carefully holding the hilt of a switchblade between two fingers. She placed it carefully in a plastic evidence tube made for holding weapons and glanced up at Becca as she sealed it. "I think there's some more in the Hummer, why don't you restock you're kit while you're there?"

"You got this room?" Becca stood to leave.

"Don't worry, Rebecca, we're just about done up here," Calleigh surveyed the blood-stained wall as she spoke in her southern drawl. "I'm gonna finish processing the blood spatter, then we should fingerprint the room." Becca nodded and left, making sure not to touch the railing as she descended from to the ground floor. She was wearing gloves, but she didn't want to smudge any prints that could be on the surface.

Becca had restocked the swabs in her kit and headed back up to the bedroom were the crime had taken place. She slowed to a stop at the top of the stairs when she heard voices from the bedroom.

"Just tell me what you want." That was Calleigh, Becca realized. The blonde CSI's voice was very calm, and she talked slowly and articulately. Becca pulled her gun from its holster.

"Give me the knife!" Becca's eyes widened when she heard a man's voice. "Just give me the knife and I won't shoot!" He was talking loudly and sounded threatening. Becca backed down the hall, away from the room, and pulled the small radio from her belt. "Dispatch, I have an officer-involved hostage situation," she said quietly. "One male suspect, armed with a gun."

"Copy, CSI Jordan, we're sending backup. Do you have a visual?"

"No." Becca walked back toward the room, trying to peer in through the cracked door.

"I'm going to pick up the knife, okay?" Calleigh had both her hands raised at shoulder height. She slowly bent her knees, keeping her arms visible. With one hand she rifled through her kit. Becca could see that she didn't have her gun.

"Hand it over!" The man ordered, walking over to Calleigh quickly, coming into Becca's line of vision. He was almost six feet tall, with sandy blonde hair and a medium build. He grabbed the plastic tube that held the knife out of her hands. Calleigh stepped back so she wasn't within arm's reach. The blonde man inspected the knife quickly, then looked back at Calleigh. He stepped forward, nervously fiddling with his right arm the one that held a black gun.

"I don't need anyone who knows my face," he said quietly, almost to himself. He raised the gun at Calleigh.

Becca burst into the room when her friend was threatened, her weapon leveled at the man. "Miami-Dade PD!" She shouted. "Put your hands in the air!"

The man had stepped away when she'd come through the door. He grabbed Calleigh and pulled her between him and Becca. The tall man pressed the gun in his hand at Calleigh's head, and Becca's quick mind told her that it was the same standard issue Glock that she was holding. _How did he get Calleigh's gun?_ She asked herself frantically.

"You put your hands in the air, or she gets one in the head!"

Becca had never been good at the bonding with hostage takers that her negotiation courses had suggested. "You're way bigger than she is, Bub, I can just shoot you over her head." She aimed her gun between his eyes to make her point.

The man gulped as he considered. "I could shoot her before the bullet hits me," the blonde man said confidently. He pushed the muzzle against Calleigh's temple. The CSI was standing calmly, not moving. Calleigh looked at Becca without any expression.

"You that sure of your reflexes?" Becca asked carefully. If she could keep him talking long enough, back-up would arrive. Becca knew dispatch responded particularly fast to officer-involved situations, and she could hear the faint sound of sirens already.

The man holding Calleigh hostage heard the sirens too. "I'm getting out of here!" He insisted. He ducked behind Calleigh, cutting off Becca's shot at him, and fired three shots around the firearms specialist.

Becca felt a sharp, burning sensation in her side. She grimaced in pain but kept her gun pointed at the pair standing only a few feet in front of her. The sandy-haired man looked surprised; he'd missed because he hadn't been ready for the kickback of the gun. He jammed the Glock under Calleigh's chin, ignoring her flinch as the hot metal touched her skin.

"Get out of the way or I swear I'll shoot her!" The man violently tugged Calleigh by the arm, pulling her toward the door in a semi-circle around Becca. Becca slowly backed away from the cop and the criminal, moving to let them through the door. The man kept Calleigh between them as her backed through the door and to the stairs. Becca followed, ignoring the blood seeping down her leg, and kept her gun leveled on the man.

When he reached the stairs, the man stumbled, surprised. He'd been concentrating on Becca and his hostage. Calleigh suddenly moved, knocking the gun away from her neck too quickly for him to fire, and elbowing him, _hard_. The unbalanced man tried to grab her, but she slid away from him as he tumbled down the stairs, his gun firing a stray shot into the ceiling as he fell.

The two CSI's raced down the stairs after him. Becca went first, keeping her weapon trained on the unmoving mound at the foot of the staircase. When they were a few steps from the bottom, the front door, only three yards from the stairs, burst open. Becca immediately swung her arms up to cover this new danger, only to recognize the tan uniform of the figure in the door. She knew that the gunfire would've brought their fellow officers into the building.

"Hold your fire! We're Miami-Dade!" She held up her arms so there wouldn't be any confusion, and felt movement behind her that was Calleigh doing the same thing. "That's the perp." Becca motioned with her chin toward the man on the ground.

The officer at the door nodded as he entered the hallway, leaving room for the several other patrol officers to surge in. "All clear!" One of them called.

A redhead in a dark suit came through the door, holding a pair of sunglasses in his hands. From the way the other officers turned towards him it was clear he was in charge.

"Ms. Jordan?" Horatio Caine asked as he walked over to the stairs. His eyes were fixed on her blood-stained left side. "We need to get you medical attention."

Becca shook her head. "I'm fine," she insisted. Turning on the stairs, she looked at Calleigh. "Are you alright? I didn't see the whole thing. Did he hurt you?"

Calleigh came down to stand on the floor next to the Lieutenant. "He hit me over the head with something when he stole my gun. I heard him coming, but," she looked at Becca, rubbing the back of her head. "I thought it was you," Calleigh finished, embarrassed by her mistake.

"Is you neck alright?" Becca asked, still worried.

The ballistics expert tilted her head back and felt the skin of her neck. Becca and Horatio both saw a dark patch under her chin. "You're burned, Calleigh," Horatio said calmly, turning sideways so her could tilt his head at his CSIs. "We need, to get that treated." He looked at Becca's wound. "In fact, both of you need to come to the ambulances.

Horatio and another officer escorted the two women outside the crime scene, which was already being cordoned off with yellow tape. Calleigh and Becca were deposited at different ambulances.

Becca sat down thankfully. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, she was starting to feel the effects of her blood loss. Her head swirled as she leaned against the inside wall of the ambulance, and she started drifting off…

[*]

Speed looked up from the baseball bat he was inspecting. The blood and skin samples on the bat were almost guaranteed to be from his victim, but it was the strange, sap-like substance on the handle that confused him. The various people running around outside the trace lab wasn't helpful either.

The trace expert sighed. He'd been looking forward to talking to Becca when he came in, but Eric had told him (with a smirk that suggested Eric knew why he'd asked) that she'd gone into the field with Calleigh. The knowledge had brought his headache back with a vengeance, and now there were dozens of people going to and fro in the hallways, distracting him from his work.

Speedle wrinkled his forehead. No one ran in the lab. Not unless there was a reason to. He looked at his watch and decided he might as well take his lunch break while he figured out what bit of gossip or interesting news report was making his colleagues scurry around so much. After carefully putting away the baseball bat and initialing the sign-out sheet, Speed threw out his gloves and left the lab. Immediately the sounds of various voices raised in alarm caught his attention, and he headed to the lounge, where several lab personnel were gathered around the TV.

"Speed, have you heard anything new?" Eric asked intently, grabbing his friend's arm. "Has Becca called you?"

Speed was confused and alert by the way Eric was acting. "No, why would she?"

"Have you been in your lab all day?" Eric asked angrily, craning his neck to try and see the TV around the people who had clustered around it. "You really didn't hear?" He asked Speed.

"No, I didn't, is something wrong?" Speed was definitely nervous now.

"We don't know. All we heard is there's an officer-involved hostage situation at 34 Maple Ave, in the Groves."

Speed's mouth fell open for a moment. "That's Becca and Calleigh's scene!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah, I know," Eric answered. "We heard there were injuries, but…" He trailed off, shrugging and shaking his head.

"Casualties?" Speed asked in a low voice, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"One." Eric's face gave away his deep concern, and he turned away from the few people who were paying attention to the conversation.

"Well, who?" Speed said loudly. A few of the techs looked at him, but turned back to the TV. Speed caught a quick glimpse of a pink stone house, surrounded with crime scene tape and swarming with police officers. He leaned closer to Eric, who still hadn't answered. Speed stared his friend in the eyes.

"We're not sure." Eric responded quietly. Then he turned away from Speed. "Oh, God, I hope it's not Calleigh," he whispered.

Speed didn't hear him: he'd already run out of the room.

[*]

**That was longer than I expected! Thankfully, my decision to stubbornly barrel through the writing despite having absolutely no idea where I was headed paid off! Please, please talk to me! I stayed up ridiculously late to type this, tell me it was worth it! Reviews are food for my starving muse!**

**Not counting my Author's Notes (which I hope you read because there's semi-important info, but you don't have to), you just read 3,673 words of drama in this chapter (believe me, I checked!). Tell me if you wanted more, or if you wish you hadn't read it at all. I listen!**

**Most certainly to be continued, I couldn't possibly end it here**


	6. Not What I Meant

**A/N: First and foremost, I want to apologize to those people who are actually reading this story, I feel so guilty for denying you a new chapter! I got the worst case of writer's block I've ****ever**** had on this chapter, I had to convince myself to type every word at times. That's why it took sooooo long! I'm really sorry!**

**I've never taken methamphetamines, so any mistakes in the effects/symptoms are entirely mine, as well as any mistakes about the hospital stuff; I tried to keep it simple! (Great, I just spoiled part of the story :)**

**Chapter 6: Not What I Meant**

[*]

"H! What happened?" Speed shouted breathlessly as he came to a stop beside the lieutenant. He'd run from the Hummer to the Emergency Room at full speed and was staring at Horatio intently. "They said someone was dead!"

"Calleigh and Rebecca are fine, Speed," Horatio said gently.

Speed collapsed in a chair, one of the few empty seats in the packed waiting room. He leaned back and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. He couldn't believe how worried he'd been the entire ride over. Speed had turned on the sirens on his Hummer to get to the hospital sooner, but had still caught himself worrying about what would happen when he got there. He kept picturing Becca being brought into the Emergency Room on a gurney, blood spilling down the sides… He opened his eyes and looked up at Horatio, trying to forget the images that his brain provided all too easily from his experience as a CSI.

"What happened?" Speed asked, calmer now that he knew Becca- Calleigh and Becca- were okay. He was worrying about both of them, as a colleague. He wasn't worrying about Becca more, just like Eric had prayed for Calleigh. Of course not.

"Nathaniel McClintock," H began in his drawn-out manner, "is Mrs. Cole's brother-in-law. From what we can determine, Mrs. Cole refused to give him the combination to her husband's safe, and he stabbed her. After going home to change his clothes, Mr. McClintock came back to the house, planning to discover the body and frame his brother, Mr. Cole, but found Ms. Duquesne instead."

Speed nodded; he'd heard stories like this before. "Calleigh says she thought she heard Becca coming back to the scene, but Mr. McClintock hit her over the head and stole her service weapon."

"Is she alright?"

H nodded solemnly. "She has some swelling, and the doctors he does need a CT scan, but they suspect no permanent damage." H sat down next to Speed and continued. "Ms. Jordan found Mr. McClintock taking the murder weapon and entered the scene when it appeared Calleigh was in immediate danger." H shifted in his seat and looked at Speed sidelong.

"What is it, H?" Speed sensed something important, but his boss was watching him closely. If Speed didn't know better, he'd say H looked worried.

"Ms. Jordan was grazed by a bullet," H started quietly.

"What?" Speed jumped up. "Where is she? Can I see her?"

Horatio stood up to his full height and looked Speed in the eye. "She's alright, Speed. She's fine." When his CSI nodded and took a deep breath, H turned to the side again. "They managed subdue Mr. McClintock, and he's being treated for a broken arm and a minor concussion."

"That's it?" Speed muttered bitterly. He was about to say more when a short woman in pale blue scrubs walked over, stepping between a crying child and a man with a green tint to his face. "Lieutenant Caine?"

"Speaking," Horatio answered smoothly, turning to look at the nurse, head tilted to the side.

The nurse nodded in recognition, then consulted her file. "One of your officers, Ms. Jordan, is trying to check out AMA."

"Why can't she check out?" Speed inquired. The nurse looked at him suspiciously, but Horatio gestured for her to continue.

"It's against medical advice because of her blood loss. She was woozy when she came in, so we want to keep her overnight for monitoring. Also, her blood tests haven't come back yet, she definitely should wait for those." The nurse motioned down the hall. "Could you speak to her?"

"Of course," Horatio smiled at the woman. She gave him a quick smile before heading back to the bustling nurse's station. "You stay here, okay Speed?" The red-headed lieutenant said kindly.

"No, H, I want to come, I can talk to her!" Speed protested_. I want to make sure she's really okay!_ He told himself. Speed just wanted to see for himself that she wasn't hurt, that's all. He wasn't even going to bring up last night. Unless she did.

"Speed, I need you to stay here, in case we get more information on the case, or Calleigh's condition," Horatio spoke patiently. Speed sighed and sat back in the hospital chair while his supervisor stepped carefully down towards the Emergency Room. He hadn't noticed before, but these chairs were really uncomfortable. Speed sighed, and settled down to wait.

[*]

Becca braced herself against the wall as she blinked to focus her eyes. She knew it probably wasn't smart to check out against medical advice, but she hated hospitals. Ever since that raid a year and a half ago, just the smell of sterilized metal, cleaning solvents and uncomfortably stiff fabric would give her goosebumps. She'd tried to stay in the hospital, only to find information about Calleigh, but none of the nurses would answer her questions, claiming that she wasn't family. Becca'd had such a strong sense of déjà vu that she'd checked out as soon as she could, despite the bright lights that still danced around the edge of her vision.

Becca sighed, pulling herself vertical from the wall and stumbling the few steps into her kitchen. She'd had enough training to recognize the symptoms of blood loss, and poured herself some fruit juice to bring up her blood sugar. Her hand shook as he walked to her couch, but she ignored it.

Sitting down carefully, Becca surveyed her new home. When she'd come from Chicago, it had taken a while for the bank to wire her money, so she'd rented this tiny place with the cash she'd had on her. Thankfully, her credit card paid for an actual apartment, not a motel, but Becca still yearned for the open loft she and Mark had purchased.

Becca had bought furnishings for the apartment in the three months she'd been in Miami, but it still didn't feel like home. The off-white carpet seemed to be mocking her with its blankness, the light red color she'd painted throughout the apartment not doing much to liven the place up, and all the pieces of furniture she'd bought seemed to stand out, as though they weren't comfortable. Even the people in the few photos Becca had convinced herself to hang seemed to be staring at her.

Becca sighed again and drank her juice, wondering if she should call Horatio. She was sure he would still be at the hospital. The quiet lieutenant seemed to be the type of policeman who would be completely loyal to his colleagues, and Becca was sure he would stay at the hospital until he knew his officers were safe. She pulled out her phone, but couldn't bring herself to dial.

_Do I really want to know?_ Becca asked herself. _What if this is as bad as last time?_ Calleigh had looked alright, but what if the head injury was worse than it appeared? Becca didn't want to look at another friend and know that they could have died because she wasn't able to help them.

Becca closed her eyes, remembering the first time that happened, nearly eighteen months ago…

[*]

"You think you can handle this?"

Becca looked up, squinting to protect her eyes from the bright sunlight. She grinned. "When have I ever let you down?"

Johnny smiled in response, rolling his eyes. "I know, but there's a lot of stuff here. There's the drug trace, the casings, the blood…" Johnny pointed to the respective evidence as he spoke. "There's a lot to do," he finished, shrugging.

Becca stood and walked the few steps to stand in the shade with Johnny. The detective was being careful not to stand in the sun too long; his pale skin burned easily. She appraised the crime scene.

She and Johnny were standing beside an old warehouse. It had been used as a meth lab until today, when Johnny and several other police officers had conducted a raid earlier that day. Becca was standing just outside a back door that was open and cordoned off with police tape. There was a spill of white powder just outside the door. It was speckled with blood, bright red from its contact with the air. Scattered around the door were several bullet casings.

"Here's what I think happened: our guy was running toward the door when the officers rounded the corner." Becca motioned to the hallway inside the door. "He turned; fired off a few rounds. These casings are .380's, they'd fit hit the cook's Thunder 380. That's when he got hit; he fell on his side here" she motioned toward a blood smear "and dropped the bag of meth, which broke open and spilled."

"And you figured this all out from a few drops of blood and some casings?" Johnny asked. His wide-eyed, completely convinced expression made Becca laugh.

"That, and your report, and the reports from the other Narco detectives." She smiled teasingly. "You really are new at this, aren't you?"

"Hey, it's my first month in Narcotics!" Johnny protested, smiling. "We never worked with the CSIs on patrol. By the way," Johnny motioned inside the warehouse, "why are there only two other CSIs? There's a pretty big crime scene in there."

"We're understaffed," the red-haired CSI explained. "Actually, we're always understaffed. The only reason there are even three of us on this case is because the brass is making a big deal about this raid, and my boss wanted all of our ducks in a row." She started packing evidence into her case. "Actually, I have to go back inside. I had to process this part of the scene because nobody else wanted to be outside in this." Becca motioned to the wide parking lot that surrounded the warehouse and the bright sunlight that was just beginning to make the day one of Chicago's most sweltering. As she surveyed the lot, Becca squinted and pointed to the corner of the fence that separated the lot from the scrubland on the other side.

"Is that car one of ours?" She asked, pointing to the beat-up Camry that had just entered the lot from an unused back road. Johnny turned, squinting, as the car pulled closer.

"No, it's not," he said, sounding concerned. "Maybe we should call- gun!"

Johnny turned and tackled her to the ground just as the sounds of gunfire cracked the air. Becca felt the air knocked out of her when they landed, then gasped when Johnny rolled off her. She saw him firing back, and stood up to support him with her own weapon. She stumbled backwards, hitting the wall of the warehouse, and let out a moan. Suddenly everything was happening in slow motion.

Johnny spun to face her, but the motion was blurry, as though she were viewing it through thick glasses. She saw his lips move, but couldn't hear anything except for the echoes of gunfire in the courtyard. Johnny took a step toward her, then jerked, his eyes going wide before he tripped. Becca reached out to catch him, but he was unbelievably heavy in her arms. She ended up crumpling, and she registered screeching tired, shouting voices, and his ragged breath before the sunlight became too bright, and Becca closed her eyes to block it out.

…

Becca returned to consciousness suddenly, sitting up abruptly and setting all the monitors off. "Johnny!" She shouted urgently. Several nurses in scrubs pulled away the thin curtains that separated her bed from the large room and tried to get her to lie down. "I won't calm down!" She responded, ripping her arms away from them. "I want to see him!" She tried to stand, but the wooziness overtook her and she fell back on the bed before the nurses even attempted to push her back down.

"CSI Jordan!" She spun towards her name. It was a brown-haired man in a doctor's coat who was carrying a blue file and a green file in his hands. He walked calmly to her bed and placed his hand on the inside of her elbow, checking the IV line and rubbing her arm with his finger. "I'm Doctor Griest. We can't have you walking about," he said seriously. "You need to recuperate."

"I'm fine!" Becca insisted. "Where's Johnny? I saw him fall, but…" Becca blinked, trying to remember. "What happened?" She asked, concerned, but more confused.

"You had an overdose," Dr. Griest explained, waving away the few nurses who still lingered.

"I'm not on any drugs," Becca protested, sitting up again. Her head spun, but she maintained a steady glare at the doctor.

"I know," the man said, trying to placate her. "If you were, the amount in your system wouldn't have been enough to knock you out. You would've built up a tolerance."

"What drug?" Becca asked rudely when the doctor offered no more words.

"Methamphetamine." The CSI sighed and nodded. She must have breathed in quite a bit when Johnny fell on her. Johnny!

Becca shook her head to concentrate on the most pressing issue. She was still feeling dizzy, and she had to blink a few times before Dr. Griest's kind face came into focus. "What about Johnny?"

The doctor's eyes flicked to the one remaining nurse, who quickly averted her eyes. Becca noticed this and became even more suspicious when Doctor Griest faltered before responding. "Ah… We'll try to update you on his condition when we find out anything." He then started to walk away.

"Wait, is he okay?" The doctor continued to the nurse's station without looking back. "Can you tell me anything?" Becca asked the blue-scrubbed nurse who was checking her blood pressure.

The young brunette blinked at her like she felt bad for Becca. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you anything about his treatment." She tried to move away, but Becca grabbed her wrist.

"Please?" Becca said quietly, trying to ignore the stars in her eyes. "I need to know if he's okay."

The woman's eyes flicked to the nurse's station. "I'm really sorry." She admitted sympathetically. "I don't think I'm the right person to tell you." She moved away before Becca could readjust her grip.

…

"What are you doing here?"

Becca jumped at the quiet question. She was sitting in one of the plastic chairs next to Johnny's bed, holding his hand and trying to keep from either falling asleep of fainting. She examined her friend quickly. The monitor that tracked his heartbeat was still beeping its steady, annoying rhythm. His bandages were clean, no crimson leaking though. Becca took a deep breath, cringing at the smell or bleach and old blood, already committed to memory. She finally looked him in his eyes, which were still bleary from sleep.

"I had to make sure you were all right, didn't I?" Becca asked, smiling in what she meant to be her usual teasing manner, but her words sounded a bit strangled and she knew she hadn't quite pulled it off.

"What about you?" Johnny whispered. He'd been trached on the way to the hospital and his throat was still sore. He looked at the hospital gown she was still wearing confusedly.

"I breathed in a bunch of meth from the scene by accident. I'm fine now. The other cops on scene caught the shooters, just some low-level dealers stupid enough to try to get back their drugs." Becca smiled again, this time trying to be reassuring. She paused for a minute, then said the words that had been gnawing at her mind for hours. "I'm sorry."

Johnny stared for a moment. "Huh?" He asked, shrugging slightly, then wincing at the lance of pain from the gunshot wound in his right side.

"I should've been able to return fire. I should've been able to cover you. You got shot because you were trying to help me." Becca muttered quickly. She didn't want to admit how guilty she felt, but she needed to apologize for not offering the backup that it was her duty to provide.

"It wasn't your fault," Johnny protested weakly, just like she knew he would. "You didn't-" he trailed off when the talking made him start to cough. Becca stood up quickly and held his shoulder, trying to stop him from curling as he coughed. She grabbed a cup of water from the table at the foot of the bed and forced it into his hand.

"Don't talk," she murmured. When he stopped coughing he drank, but glared at her in a manner so familiar that she almost laughed. "I'm just glad you're okay," Becca sighed. Johnny smiled a bit, and she sat back down.

[*]

Sharp raps on the door jolted Becca into wakefulness. She almost spilled the juice she was still holding. While she stood and settled the juice on a table there were several more impatient knocks. "Jeez, I'm coming," Becca muttered. She walked quickly to the door, wincing when her motions pulled on the skin of her side.

Pulling open the door, Becca had to move back. Speed stepped into the room the moment the door was open, almost bumping into her.

"What are you doing here?" Becca asked in disbelief. Speed was wild-eyed. He'd obviously been running his hand through his hair, making it look rumpled, and he was slightly out of breath. "Did you take the stairs?"

"Why did you leave the hospital?" Speed's dark eyes were boring into hers. Becca turned away, trying to avoid the deep concern written all over his face. "I don't like hospitals," she shrugged.

Speed pulled her arm so she was facing him. He was staring at her incredulously now. "You got shot!" He exclaimed. It was a statement of the obvious, but his voice broke on the last word.

"I'm fine, Tim." She looked into his eyes, trying to convince him. "It was just a graze."

Speed didn't look convinced. "Can I see?" He whispered, sounding almost afraid.

Becca hesitantly lifted the hem of her shirt to reveal the three-inch long gash in her side. It was the reddish-brown color of a scab; the ER doctors told her the heat of the bullet probably cauterized the wound. It still throbbed painfully.

Speed stared at the wound for a moment, then tentatively reached out to touch it. He drew his fingertips along the cut. Becca gasped slightly and Speed pulled back.

"Am I hurting you?" He asked nervously.

Becca looked into his eyes, then looked away quickly. "No, that's not- it just," she stuttered. "It doesn't hurt," she whispered, trying to ignore the very non-painful feeling that had jolted through her stomach when he'd touched her.

Becca gasped again when Speed completely covered the wound with his hand. "Does that hurt?"he asked quietly, suddenly very close. Becca couldn't speak, just shook her head.

Speed softly tipped her chin back so she was looking him in the eyes. He stared at her for several seconds, then murmured "I'm so glad you're okay." He pressed his lips to hers carefully.

This time Becca had expected the kiss. What she wasn't ready for was the inexplicable glow that seemed to radiate from Speed and soak into her skin. His hands on her stomach and the side of her face were soft, and he when pulled back she shook her head and leaned closer to him, her mouth searching for his now.

Speed smiled against her lips and kissed her back softly, tilting her head with his hand in her hair. Becca brought her hands up to cup his face, sighing as he nibbled at her bottom lip. She slipped her tongue into his mouth to taste him and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling as though she was melting into his warm body. The hand that had been covering her wound slid down to Becca's hip and pulled her closer, while the other slid down her hair to rest between her shoulder blades.

The warm feeling had spread through Becca's entire body and she could no longer feel the throbbing of the gunshot wound. She pressed herself closer to Speed and deepened the kiss, ignoring her own body's protests for air. When she finally had to breathe she pulled away, heaving air back into her lungs. Speed started kissing Becca's jaw and let his lips trail across her chin before he reached her neck. Becca let out a small laugh, and Speed responded by sucking hard on the skin just above her collarbone. Becca gasped, and it was his turn to chuckle, the vibration encouraging her to tighten her arms around his neck. Sped sighed her name once and continued ravaging her throat.

Becca flinched when he said her name, and ripped herself away from him, spinning quickly and walking into her kitchen, breathing hard. She stared wide-eyed at the appliances as thought they would tell her what she wanted to hear, but how could they? She didn't even know what it was. All she knew was that Speed had said her name against her neck the exact same way Mark did. _It's not fair!_ Becca wailed in her head. Why couldn't she go a single day without Mark being forced into her mind?

Becca was so wrapped up in her frantic thoughts that she didn't see Speed come up behind her and she jumped away when he touched her shoulder.

"What's the matter, Becca?" Speed sounded confused, exasperated, and, yes, angry. Becca turned toward him, her face a mask of unhappiness.

"It's you!" she shouted. Speed jerked back with surprise, and Becca was no less astounded by the sudden barrage of emotion pouring from her mouth. "I can't stand this!" she yelled. "The way you talk, and walk, and dress, and kiss and the way you look!" Becca was randomly stabbing the air as she listed. "Even the way you say my name," she said, her voice hitching as the energy seemed to drain away. She slumped against a counter, dropping her head into her hands. "I can't stand it."

There were several seconds of silence while Becca tried to calm down. Once she was breathing almost normally again she looked above her hands at Speed. He was staring at her, his expression impossible to read. Finally, he spoke, in an incredibly calm voice.

"Do you really hate me that much?"

Becca gasped. "No, that's not what I-"

Speed cut her off, emotion beginning to appear on his face. "You just said you couldn't stand anything about me. Am I really such a terrible person?" He asked sarcastically, now decidedly angry.

"No!" Becca tried to explain. "It's not that, it's not you! It's me! When I look at you I…" Becca trailed off. What did she do whenever she saw Tim? Did she remember Mark looking at her with the same expressions on his face? Did she hate Tim for just a moment before she remembered who he was? Did she worry that the only reason she liked him at all was because he looked like her ex-fiancé?

"It's not you, it's me?" Speed laughed, the sound nothing like before. Now the noise was ironic, an insult. Speed shook his head. "I'm just not good enough for you, is that it?" He asked spitefully, staring into her eyes.

"That's not what I meant," Becca whispered miserably.

Speed snorted. "I'll see you at work," he said over his shoulder as he walked out of the kitchen. Becca waited until she heard the door slam before sinking to the floor.

[*]

**Hokay! That ended up way more depressing than I'd expected. Sorry if it's a bit OOC, but I bet even Speed might lose his temper in a situation like this!**

**Please tell me what you think! I don't know how I want the next chap to play out, and reviews and suggestions help a lot!**


	7. Not Going My Way

**A/U: Okay, I know this took me a wicked long time, but I had to switch this story so many times to fit with the various ending I planned that even now, writing this somewhere around halfway through the story, I'm not sure if I'm going to keep what I've written.**

**The good news is, it's Thanksgiving break! Happy Turkey Day everyone! The time I'm getting off from school might actually let me finish this story before the end of break, if I'm optimistic. Apparently, I'm a much slower writer than I thought I was when I started this story.**

**Chapter 7: Not Going My Way**

[*]

His mind was clear.

For the first time in weeks, his mind was calculating, precise, the way it had always been before she came. He wasn't worried about whether she'd be in the lab or the field that morning, if she'd notice that he got her the extra mocha latte just the way she liked it or what she was wearing that day. He was thinking about the cases on his desk, how silent and peaceful his trace lab- that's right, _his_ trace lab- was going to be so he could slip into the trance that always came with working hard on evidence and finally forget about what happened last night, the look on her face and the words she'd shouted at him, louder than he'd ever heard her before.

He definitely wasn't thinking about her.

The ride to the lab on his motorcycle calmed him down, and by the time he arrived he was almost peaceful. Just another day, just another batch of evidence. He wouldn't even see her; H had told both Becca and Calleigh to stay home, since they'd been injured the day before.

She'd been shot… Speed remembered the long, bruised red line down her side, how the skin had felt tense and fragile against his hand, how pale she'd been when she opened the door…

He walked into the crime lab, managing his usual tiny smile to Melanie at the reception desk before signing in and making his way to the changing room. Speed sat down on the bench and rested his head on his locker, already emotionally tired again simply from walking through the halls. This day was not going to go his way.

He was glad that he wasn't in view of the door when he heard it open and recognized Eric's footsteps. The Cuban CSI grabbed something from his locker quickly before leaving, and Speed didn't greet him. He knew his peaceful mood would be shattered with the first sign of human interaction.

Speed groaned in his head when the glass door to the locker room opened again and the clipped steps of high heeled shoes echoed in the small room. He immediately recognized the telltale sound of Calleigh's morning humming and the familiar sound almost brought a smile to his face. Then the door opened again.

"Calleigh? What are you doing in today?"

Speed sat up from his locker and thanked the God he didn't quite believe in that he was separated from Becca and Calleigh by an island of lockers.

"I could ask you the same question, missy. Horatio said he told you to stay home. You were shot, darlin', you can't be in here today!" Calleigh sounded happy and fresh, as she did every morning, and the small part of Speed that wasn't otherwise distracted was glad that she was back on her feet.

"I'm fine, Calleigh. And I really had to come in and tell you what happened!"

Speed froze for an instant. Surely Becca wasn't about to tell Calleigh about their argument the night before? But no, the Chicago native was happy, grinning. Speed could hear it in her voice.

"Johnny called me this morning!"

"Wow," Calleigh said, sounding taken aback, and Speed cocked his head. _Who's Johnny?_ He thought. Becca had never talked about her friends from Chicago, seeming to shrink a bit whenever her old job or home was mentioned.

"Why now?" Calleigh asked. "After four months, I don't know if he has the right to talk to you." The happy tone was gone from the blonde's voice, and she now sounded disapproving and slightly angry.

"I was wondering about that too, but there was a good reason." Becca was practically bouncing, and Speed wondered how he got to know her voice so well that he could imagine the expression on her face as she spoke.

Becca suddenly calmed down and spoke quietly so Speed had to slow his breathing to hear it. "He was helping IAB. They arrested Mark." Her voice was intense, and Speed recognized a victorious grin sliding across her face.

"Oh my gosh," Calleigh was shocked. "What did they get him on?"

"Abuse of police authority, fraud and an eighteen wheeler's worth of broken police regulations."

"Fraud?" Calleigh sounded confused.

"The loft." Becca's voice was suddenly wistful. "He sold it. It was against the lease."

"You still haven't heard from him?" Calleigh asked softly.

"I don't want to!" Becca snapped. A locker slammed and Speed jerked in his seat, having unconsciously leaned closer to the bank of lockers to hear better.

"I understand, honey," Calleigh said kindly. Speed gritted his teeth. Apparently, he was the only one in the dark! Calleigh seemed to already know who 'Mark' and 'Johnny' were.

After a few moments of silence, Calleigh spoke. "What else did Johnny say?"

There was a small sniffle, and Speed sat up straight. Why was Becca that sad? He felt the urge to walk around the lockers and comfort her, and was arguing in his head the pros and cons of such a move when she spoke.

"He and Bri worked together on the investigation. It's been tough on both of them, doing their own jobs and looking into Mark's… extracurricular activities," Becca stumbled before speaking strongly again "which is why they haven't called."

There was silence for a moment. "He wants to come see me," Becca said with a smile.

Speed was struck with a sudden bolt of emotion. Was this Johnny a boyfriend she'd left behind when she'd come to Miami? Was this why she didn't want to get close to him? Because she was already with someone?

"Do you want to see him?" Calleigh questioned, and Speed held his breath, not sure what answer he was praying for.

"Of course, Calleigh! I always want to see Johnny. I've missed him so much…" Becca smiled again. "I have great friends in Miami, but there's nothing like somebody who's been through what we've been through together."

Speed didn't move, and felt that coldness take over him again. His instant defense mechanism , the reason he could go from a horrifying case to processing evidence in his lab in ten seconds flat. He did his best to block out his emotions and thoughts and concentrate on the job, and it always worked.

"I'm so glad things are finally going better for you, hun. You deserve it," Calleigh smiled to her friend.

"Yeah," Becca's voice was suddenly hollow, and she gulped noticeably before speaking. "Everything's great."

Speed could tell Calleigh had noticed the sudden change in atmosphere, she always did, but then he heard her heels click on the floor as she stood up suddenly.

"Oh my gosh! Look at the time! We're gonna be late!" She and Becca ran out of the locker room, leaving Speed to his thoughts.

[*]

"You feelin' alright Speed?"

Speed looked up tiredly from his microscope, blinking a few times to refocus his eyes. "What?"

Eric finished signing his name on a form before answering. "I can imagine how I'd be feeling if it was Calleigh who got shot, and you've been pretty quiet today."

Speed sighed, closing his eyes so his friend couldn't see that he was rolling them. "Eric, just… stop." He breathed out through his teeth, waiting until his Cuban colleague looked up in surprise. "Stop drawing parallels between my situation with Becca and you and Calleigh. It's not the same thing, and I really don't want to talk about it." He shook his head and looked back at his microscope. _Can I just go one day without people worrying about my emotional state and my relationships?_

Eric was stunned into silence for a moment. His friend rarely talked so much, and he'd never heard that particular defeated tone in Speed's voice. When he realized he hadn't moved in several seconds, Eric walked to the other end of the room, putting his completed paperwork in the outbox. He turned to continue the conversation, but just then the door to the Trace Lab opened and a familiar redheaded figure walked in nervously.

"Tim?" Becca's eyes flicked nervously between Eric and Speed, and the former, seeing that his presence wasn't going to make the conversation easier, silently moved into the rows of supplies that filled up the other side of the room. Hoping the physical barrier would be helpful, he surreptitiously watched his colleagues through the containers of evidence and supplies.

Speed apparently wasn't surprised by his female colleague's appearance, because he didn't even look up from his microscope when he answered. "Yes?" He said impassively.

"Um," Becca shifted her weight between her high heels. "I was hoping-" she cleared her throat and swallowed. This time, her eyes flicked to the corner Eric was occupying and she spoke more quietly. "I wanted to talk about-"

Speed stood up suddenly enough to surprise Eric and stop Becca from continuing. "Does this pertain to a case?" He asked coldly, expression professional but just angry enough to be noticeable.

Becca was as startled by the sudden negative emotion from the brown-eyed man. Her face showed shock and she spluttered before speaking. "Uh, n-no. But I thought-"

Speed cut her off again, the anger leaking out of his voice though the intensity stayed. "Have you finished processing the mini-van with the paint made from heroin?"

"No, but-"

"Then you'd better get on that." Speed finally broke his glare and bent back over his microscope.

Becca blinked a few times. She turned to the doorway, then spun back and planted her feet. Taking a deep breath, she spoke quietly, with firm but almost desperate tone that Eric never expected would come out of her mouth. "Tim, there's something I _have_ to say to you-"

Speed sighed and stood up again, rolling his eyes. "Why don't you tell it to Johnny, Becca? I'm sure he'd be much happier to listen than I am." Shaking his head, Speed turned away from the pale CSI and started marking forms on a different table.

Becca opened and closed her mouth, not getting any sound to come out. She stayed in the same spot for almost a minute, biting her lower lip as her eyes started to shine. Finally, she took her eyes off the man in front of her and looked at the floor, hair falling into her face, and left the lab as quietly as she could.

Eric didn't move for several moments, frozen in astonishment. As he remembered the scene that had just taken place several times a burning started in his chest. He walked out from the rows of supplies until he was standing behind his friend.

"What the hell was that?" He spoke tensely, trying to control the concentrated anger in his voice.

Speed turned, slightly surprised, but composed. "What are you talking about Delko?" He asked calmly.

Eric leaned in closer, his voice getting lower, more intense. "I don't care what kind of lover's quarrel you two are in, but you can't treat her like that!"

Speed bristled. "Like _what_?"

Eric stared at him in disbelief. "Like an ass, Speed. She was almost crying!"

Eric saw that this affected the trace expert: Speed's eyes widened slightly, he clenched his jaw and took a breath through his nose, flaring his nostrils. Then he glared at his friend and shook his head. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about, Delko."

Eric swallowed a stinging retort, taking several breaths to resist the urge to punch his best friend. "You know what Speed? You're right. I don't know what happened between the two of you, and I don't want to. But Becca is my friend too, and there's no way I'm gonna let you hurt her like that." He stormed out of the lab without waiting for a response.

[*]

"All right miss, thank you very much." Horatio gave a polite smile and a nod to the young officer who'd handed him a message from Frank. The producers of the mini-van's drug based paint were already in lock-up under charges of grand theft auto. He started back to the morgue to see if Alexx had any news on the young girl who'd been poisoned by the toxic fumes coming from the mini-van.

Horatio spotted a flash of copper in the corner of his eye, and turned to see CSI Jordan emerging slowly from the trace lab. He was about to call to her when his sharp eye took in her appearance.

The young CSI was breathing deeply, her breath hitching in her chest as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She glanced around surreptitiously at the people in the hallways, her gaze missing Horatio's dark suit in the corner. Horatio watched with concern as she lethargically made her way to the Questioned Documents Lab.

Horatio watched his CSI, thinking. Was she feeling the effects of her gunshot? Horatio knew that the effects of an injury on-duty were not merely physical: his CSI could be feeling the psychological shock of a near-death experience.

Then the door to the trace lab flew open and a fuming Eric Delko stormed out. Horatio's eyebrows rose as he discounted his previous theory. There was obviously something more afoot than post-traumatic anxiety.

After a moment's thought, the lieutenant crossed the corridor and pushed open the trace lab's glass door. "Speed," he said in a low voice, trying not to startle his subordinate. He walked around the metal and glass table so he was only a few feet from his trace expert.

The man in question looked up from his pile of paperwork and nodded at the red-hair officer. "What's up H?"

Horatio's brow wrinkled at the exhausted tone in his CSI's speech. Speed was never one for blatant displays of emotion, but he was never this emotionless. The lieutenant slipped into the soothing persona he used when he needed to be gentle, like with children, victims or delicate situations like this one. He didn't want to aggravate his trace expert, whom he knew could become quite fiery if provoked. "Is everything all right with you? I saw Eric leaving, and, he looked a bit upset."

Speed sighed and sat back on his stool. His dark eyes bore into the experienced detective, who shifted to the side in a non-threatening manner. After a short moment, Speed shook his head uncertainly.

"I don't know, H. If you asked me three days ago I would've told you everything was fine. Now?" He sighed again and kneaded his forehead. "I don't know what's going on."

Horatio wasn't blind to his CSI's interactions, and he knew there was something going on between CSIs Speedle and Jordan. If he hadn't known before, the previous day at the hospital would've told him for sure.

"Does this have anything to do with Rebecca?" Horatio asked, using her first name to promote a more personal atmosphere. He didn't want to come across as the boss watching for any problems in the ranks, he wanted to be someone the younger man could trust.

"Yeah." Speed looked away. "One minute we're fine, the next she's… I don't even know what her problem is, H!" He said heatedly to Horatio. "I've never felt like this about a woman before, but… I don't know where I stand, what I'm supposed to do. And know Eric's on her side, which means Calleigh will be too." He rolls his eyes, then froze, looking anxiously at his supervisor.

Horatio smiled slightly. Of course he already knew about the relationship between his two friends, but he wasn't going to say anything that could disrupt their careers. "I've found, Speed," H reasoned slowly "is that the best results come out, when both parties discuss the problem."

Speed nodded. "I know, H."

Horatio clasped the younger man on the shoulder and walked to the door. Turning back, he said a quick line before he left. "You'll do fine, son. Just trust your heart."

[*]

Calleigh took a deep breath before entering the QD lab. Her friend was hunched over on a stool, blankly clicking on the state of the art computer software program that controlled the document enhancing laser. Calleigh sighed. An hour into her workday and her boyfriend was seething about his best friend, who wasn't talking with Calleigh's best friend, for reasons that she didn't know and yet was about to try and fix. _I have not had enough coffee yet this morning!_

"Rebecca?"

The young woman jumped a bit and turned in her stool. "Hey Cal," she murmured, smiling mildly at the blonde CSI. "I guess you heard?"

Calleigh smiled kindly and nodded. "Eric," she answered.

Becca raised her eyebrows, unsurprised. "I'm glad all my friends know I've once again ruined my life," she said ironically. "It saves me the trouble of having to tell everyone why I'm leaving." Becca turned back to the computer, leaving a gaping Calleigh behind her.

"You can't leave, Becca! You've just settled in here!" Calleigh stepped closer and lightly tugged Becca away from the monitor so she could look in her younger friend's eyes. "You've just made friends," Calleigh gave a watery smile, already missing the optimistic CSI.

"I can't stay, Calleigh!" Becca said despondently. "I can't see him here every day, just like I couldn't see Mark every day. I just can't live with being reminded every day of what I lost!" She slumped in the stool, staring hopelessly at Calleigh. "I ruined it, Cal. He hates me."

Calleigh pulled her friend into a tight hug, rubbing her back. "He doesn't hate you, sweetheart," she said softly into Becca's ear. "I promise you, he doesn't."

"Well he thinks I hate him!" Becca pulled away, eyes shining again. "I meant to tell him about Mark, and I didn't say it right and he thinks I hate him!"

Calleigh's heart went out to her friend. "Then you should tell him, girl!" She smiled, trying to lighten the conversation. "Explain it, so there's no way for lines to be crossed. You gotta talk it out hun."

Becca held Calleigh's gaze for a few more moments, then nodded and swallowed. "I will," she whispered.

Calleigh gave an inward sigh of relief and smiled. "Okay. If you need to talk, I'm gonna be in my lab." She walked to the door and stopped when Becca spoke.

"Thanks, Cal. You're a really good friend."

Calleigh smiled to Becca. "Anytime."

[*]

_Seven hours later_

Becca nervously entered the Trace Lab for the second time that day. She looked around the lab for the figure of her… friend? Boyfriend? But the lab was empty and dark, the only sources of light the fluorescent bulbs that were kept on at all time in case of emergency and the remaining August sunlight filtering through the lab.

She walked out to the lobby to check the board, and groaned when she saw that Tim was in the field.

_This day just could not go my way!_

**Okay, I hate this chapter. I feel like I made my OC into a lame Mary Sue and that everybody else (except maybe H) is wicked out of character. **_**Please **_**tell me what you think. I'm getting quite annoyed by the numerous story alerts and the lack of reviews! I know you're reading this, it says so on the story traffic page. I'm not going to stop writing for a lack of reviews, but I am very annoyed. So please write me a review, even if it's just to tell me that I made Becca a whiny girl.**


	8. Not Running

**AN: Sorry it took so long again, I'm a terrible person. My only excuse is writer's block, again. I know what happens next, but even writing this note now is an excuse to not be writing the middle of this chapter because I have no idea what to type next.**

**This is a short chapter, but I'm uploading the next ones along with it.**

**READ THIS! READ THIS! READ THIS! READ THIS! READ THIS! :**

**There are two chapters after this! One if from Speed's point of view, and the other from Becca's, but they're still the same scene, except for the end. One is an actual ending to the story, the other is a cliffhanger which I have no intention of closing, it just came into my head and demanded to be written. If you don't want to read the cliffhanger, just read the actual ending. There will be another warning on each of those chapters.**

**Chapter 8:**

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Becca clenched the steering wheel in her hands, staring at the unwavering red glare of the traffic light. She wasn't sure if she wanted it to change so she could blast through the intersection as fast as she could or just stay the same, so she would have more time to think out what she was doing.

It would be _now_ when it hit her. The moment she'd left the crime lab, Becca had been seized with a strong urge to go straight to Tim's flat and explain everything. And now, less than three blocks away, her will was failing.

What if he didn't believe her? What if he slammed the door in her face? And the worst: what if he did believe her, and he didn't care? Was she ready to pour her heart out to a man and have it thrown in her face again? Becca didn't know, and she didn't want to think about the possibility. These moments seemed like a strange sort of Limbo; all she could do was go with the flow, and if she thought about what could happen she'd drive herself crazy.

All too soon Becca found herself pulling into a parking space in front of Tim's building. She turned the car off and took several deep breaths, seemingly more nervous than she'd ever felt before. She was torn between facing her demons and going upstairs, or driving away and letting things play out as they would. She was almost tempted to just leave, but then remembered the look on Tim's face when she'd yelled out those messed up words the night, the sound of his voice that morning in the lab. She steeled herself and got out of the car.

In front of his apartment door, the urge to run was stronger than ever. This was her last chance to run. Becca shook her head in sudden anger. Run?! She ran when things got tough! She ran from Chicago and ruined her life there. Chicago hadn't been that great to begin with, but she loved Miami and the life she'd made at the lab, and there was no way she was going to run again!

Becca spurred herself on with that thought, and knocked firmly on the door.

There was silence from within. For almost a minute Becca stood there. She was tempted to knock again, but she'd used up all her sudden courage the first time. Just when her thoughts had turned melancholy and she was going to give up to the fact that Tim wanted nothing to do with her, the door opened quietly and those dark eyes that her world seemed to revolve around peeked out, asking her a question.

"I need to explain," she said hoarsely. She swore at herself internally. Becca'd had a whole speech planned out, but now that the moment had come her mouth was dry and she couldn't remember the words. He regarded her for a painfully stretched-out moment before opening the door wide enough for her to slip inside.

They stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room, neither looking at the other. Feeling as though her only chance was slipping through her grasp, Becca turned to Speed and started talking.

"First of all, I'm really sorry to you, Tim, because I know this entire thing has been so unfair to you. I've been messed up since I left Chicago, and somehow you ended up getting the worst of that. A lot of things happened that I haven't told you about because I was afraid of what you would think of me and now I made a mess of all this but I really, _really_ like you and if you'll give me the chance, I'd like to explain why I've been acting the way I have."

Becca stood, chest heaving from the speed and fervor with which she'd delivered the speech, screaming at herself internally. Not only was he going to kick her out, he'd think she was crazy on top of it, blabbing out like that. What was wrong with her? Becca wondered frantically. Why did she always ruin everything?!

Speed hadn't moved, studying Becca's face from a few feet away. Finally, he nodded and motioned toward the couch, sitting on the opposite side as she did.

Unbelievably relieved that he'd let her stay, Becca sank into the sofa bonelessly. It was only when she met her co-worker's eyes that she realized she had no idea where to begin, and said as much, voice shaking even as she covered up with a nervous laugh.

"Who's Johnny?" He said evenly, as though the question was of no importance. But by the light in his eyes, which she'd learned to read quite well in the fourth months since she'd met him, Becca could tell this was important. She almost laughed, realizing what Speed thought Johnny was to her, but the moment was far too important.

"Johnny's my best friend. I met him about a year and a half ago on the job. He was just another green detective whose case I was assigned to, but we got caught in a gunfight together." Becca slowed down her storytelling, trying to decide the best way to continue.

"He was in a coma for three weeks. I was hurt too, so I was on medical leave, and I stayed with him at the hospital most of the time. That's where I met Mark." Becca stared at the red carpet, not wanting to elaborate on the part yet. "When Johnny came out of it, he got transferred to Robbery. The duty sergeant pretty much attached me to his unit, so we worked together on all his cases and we became best friends." She looked up at Speed, wanting to press this point home. "We never dated, or anything like that. Johnny's the closest thing I have to a brother."

Becca caught the slight relaxing of Speed's shoulders at that, but she froze at his next words. "You mentioned Mark?"

Becca swallowed, feeling that urge to run even stronger now. She squirmed uncomfortably, but forced herself to remain seated. "Mark is… the reason I'm here." She looked into Speed's eyes, and hesitated several times before letting the truth out into the open at long last. "He was my fiancé."

The trace expert's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything, just gestured vaguely for Becca to continue. She hoped that wasn't a bad sign, but wasn't feeling very optimistic.

"Mark was another detective, he worked sex crimes. I didn't know him before then, but he had a victim in the same ward as Johnny. We had coffee in the hospital cafeteria, went out to eat sometimes, it was just to get away from the hospital and the job. We talked a lot. Then the victim healed up, and Johnny came out of it a few days later, and I didn't see Mark for a month or so. After we happened to catch a case together, he asked me out. We dated for eight months, and he proposed to me on New Year's Eve."

Becca's voice was wobbling by the end and there were tears in her eyes as she remembered all the good times she'd shared with Mark and the wonderful person she'd thought she was marrying. She couldn't bring herself to look at Speed, so she continued, forcing the painful words out because she didn't think she'd get another chance to say them.

"I found out he was cheating on me in March, but he said he would stop, and I believed him. We were fine, I'd forgiven him and everything, when I walked into our bedroom three weeks before the wedding and caught him having sex with a rape victim whose case he'd been working." Tears were streaming openly down her cheeks now, but Becca just sniffed and finished the story. "I called off the wedding and I left when he told the entire department I'd been sleeping with Johnny. I just ran! I came to Miami because my parents brought me here when I was little, and I begged Horatio for a job, and then I met you and Calleigh and Eric and Johnny told me Mark's been fired and maybe arrested and I should be happy but I'm not and it's because I feel like I've messed up any chance I had with you and I don't want that, Tim!"

By the end, Becca was sobbing and she wasn't sure the words even made sense to herself, but the she was surrounded by warm arms that held her tight. She clutched at Speed's shirt and cried herself out.

When the sobs were beginning to subside, Speed let Becca go against the sofa and wiped of one of her cheeks with his thumb. "I'll get you some water, okay?"

When he came back a few minutes later, Becca had sat up and straightened her clothes and wiped off the tears. He sat down closer to her this time and handed her the cup. She took a quick sip.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be." He said simply. They sat in silence for a few moments, before Becca felt the need to speak up.

"Everything I said yesterday…" She trailed off, unsure if saying what she thought he was thinking would lead him to thinking things she didn't mean. That line of thinking gave her a headache, so she gave up and spoke from the heart. "You remind me of Mark. You look like him and sound like him and even though I really like you, so much, I just couldn't stand being reminded of him every time you talked to me or touched me. I know you're nothing like him, but I guess I'm just too damaged to handle this." She pleaded Speed with her eyes, hoping he would understand how sorry she was.

"No!" He said forcefully. Becca flinched a bit, but relaxed when he took her hand. "You're not damaged," Speed stated firmly. "You've had a lot of crap happen to you, but you're not damaged."

Becca smiled at him. Even though she'd only known this man for four months, he'd always known exactly what to say to her. Even more than someone she was interested in romantically, Speed had become a great, dear friend, and she as she was swept up in a wave of gratitude and affection, she hoped they could be more. "I really want us to work, Tim," she whispered.

"I do too," he answered quietly. She could see in his eyes how big it was for him to say that. Becca knew Speed was a very private person who kept his emotions bottled up, but she also knew what a beautiful man he was when he did show his true colors. She gave him a loving smile and, for the first time, initiated a kiss with him.

They kissed tenderly, both still aware of how fragile whatever they had was. Neither wanted to push the boundaries of their relationship, but after a few moments the soft press of lips was too little and they moved closer, opening their mouths to each other. Becca was gripping Speed's shoulder and neck, pulling him against her, and he was angling her head against his when he pulled back.

"Becca," he gasped out, his darkened eyes looking worriedly into hers, asking permission. She smiled and pushed him until he was sitting against the back of the couch. Slowly, she slid across until she was straddling him and gave him a firm kiss before pulling back.

"I'm not running this time."


	9. Not Going Anywhere

**AN: READ THIS!**

**This is the last chapter. The next chapter is extra, this same scene except from Becca's point of view, and with a cliffhanger ending that I will not be writing anything to resolve. **

**Thanks to everyone for reading, especially to LawDog1 whose comments kept me writing this story.**

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When Speed woke up, he didn't open his eyes for a few reasons.

The first was that he was far too comfortable. His room was warm and he had the thick blanket up to his waist, hiding his nakedness. One of his arms was being tickled by quiet breathing and soft hair and the other was resting on Becca's hip under the blanket, the same position they'd fallen asleep in the night before. Speed knew that if he opened his eyes, the light his bedroom curtains let in would give the room a safe, happy glow, which would make him not want to leave the bed, ever. He knew that opening his eyes would, unavoidably, lead to untangling himself from the beautiful woman next to him, then getting her helping him pick out an outfit better than the whatever's-closest-to-my-hand ensemble he wore before she came, then making their way to work where they weren't allowed any PDA.

But the real reason Speed wouldn't open his eyes was because he was still thinking about his dream.

In his dream, Speed took Becca to an expensive restaurant, the candlelit, may-I-take-your-coats-sir-and-ma'am, can't read the menu because it's in French or Italian or something sort of restaurant that he'd never felt the slightest urge to got to before. They'd had an amazing time and she was wearing a sapphire dress that somehow complemented both her green eyes and red hair and he's been stunned by how beautiful she was in the candlelight. Then, he gotten on one knee on the side of the table and asked her the most important question in his life, and her breath had hitched before she said yes and fell into his arms and everyone around them clapped as the kissed.

Speed gave up sleep as he felt Becca moving beside him. He opened his eyes and smiled. His dream wasn't real, but the reservations they had later than night and the velvet box that he carried in his pocket to make absolutely sure he wouldn't lose it; those were real.

She turned to him, blearily opening her eyes. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she murmured before she kissed him.

Speed smiled into the kiss, having realized months previously that he loved the stupid little names she called him. He felt the kiss grow more heated and used his hand on her hip to turn her so she was facing him more. She bit his lip playfully, drawing a moan from his throat, then pulled back. "I wish we didn't have to get up," she said.

"We have time," Speed answered, having checked the clock behind her. He rolled them easily so that he was on top of her, but he held himself off of her mostly so that it wouldn't go any further; despite his actions, he knew she would soon insist on going into work. He was kissing along her throat when he heard -and promptly disregarded- the triple beeping of a phone.

"That's your cell," Becca gasped as she gripped his shoulders.

"And?" Speed grinned teasingly. Becca laughed, but motioned to the table on his side of the bed. Speed sighed, but reached over and picked up the phone. He talked quickly to Horatio and promised to be at the new crime scene in a half hour.

He started to shift to the edge of the bed, but Becca moaned playfully as she grabbed his wrist. "Don't leave!" She asked plaintively , but with a joking smile. He leaned back and gave her a passionate but quick kiss. As he stood up, he glanced at his jacket on the door and pictured the perfect ring he'd picked out in it's pocket. "I'm not going anywhere."

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**This is the last chapter, so pleas review, even if it's just a single word, it'll make my day!**


	10. Not a Case

AN: READ THIS!

This is the same scene as the last chapter, but with an alternate ending. This ending is a cliffhanger, and I will not be writing anything to resolve said cliffhanger, so if you don't want that unfinished business, don't read. Please review this if you do read, though.

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Becca woke up in her favorite place in the world.

Tim was spooning her and one of his hands was stroking her stomach softly. She smiled and wriggled under the touch; she was a bit ticklish. She turned her head around as Tim moved, smiling at her lover as she blinked her eyes open, still foggy from sleep. "Good morning sleepyhead," she whispered, leaning in for a kiss.

It was meant to be light, but Becca started to press in more and she gave a quick nip to Tim's lip, earning a quiet moan in response. Instead of delving deeper like she wanted to, Becca pulled back. "I wish we didn't have to get up," she said a little breathlessly.

"We have time," Tim murmured, and rolled her skillfully so that she was pressed into the mattress by a portion of his weight. Becca giggled as he kissed along her neck, glad that she'd gotten over her stigma to that move a few months previously. She was about to give up when the sounds of their bodies and the blankets and their voices and breaths were interrupted by a triple beeping noise. Speed ignored the sound, but Becca sighed and held his shoulders until he stopped.

"That's my cell," she gasped out.

"And?" Speed replied, grinning wickedly. Becca laughed, but squirmed over until she could reach her phone on the small table on her side of the bed.

Snapping open the phone and giggling again as Tim ran his had over a particularly ticklish area on her hip, Becca tried to keep her voice level. "Hey H, did we catch a scene?" She'd become more comfortable with her superior officer and now addressed him with the same nickname as the team did.

"I'm not calling about a case."

Becca stiffened and the smile dropped off her face faster than her stomach was falling. Speed noticed the change and sat up, moving closer in case she needed him. Becca could only stare at the man she'd come to loved in horror as she breathed out the name that was screaming through her head.

"Mark?"


End file.
